طبيعةٌ كَأَنَّهَا دُمْيَةٌ

طبيعةٌ كَأَنَّهَا دُمْيَةٌ

صنعُ يَدَيْ مُصَوِّرٍ مَاهِرِ

صنعُ يَدَيْ مُصَوِّرٍ مَاهِرِ

Nature, as though she were a figurine,

Nature is like a doll

The handiwork of a skilled artist’s hands.

Made by the skilled hands of a painter

لَوْلَا هوَاهَا مَا عَرَفْنَا الهَوَى

لَوْلَا هوَاهَا مَا عَرَفْنَا الهَوَى

وَلَا ابْتَسَمْنَا لِلغَدِ الحَائِرِ

وَلَا ابْتَسَمْنَا لِلغَدِ الحَائِرِ

Were it not for love of her, we would not have known love,

Without her passion we wouldn't know passion

Nor would we have smiled at the bewildered morrow.

And we wouldn't smile at the confused tomorrow

وَلَا نظمْنَا الشِّعْرَ لَوْلَا نَدًى

وَلَا نظمْنَا الشِّعْرَ لَوْلَا نَدًى

مُنْتَظِمٌ فِي سِلْكِهَا النَّاضِرِ

مُنْتَظِمٌ فِي سِلْكِهَا النَّاضِرِ

Nor would we have composed poetry, were it not for dew

Without the dew flowing evenly

Strung upon her radiant thread.

Through the branches we wouldn't compose poetry

وَلَا أَجَدْنَا النَّثْرَ لَوْلَا هَوًا

وَلَا أَجَدْنَا النَّثْرَ لَوْلَا هَوًا

تَنْثُرُهُ بِحِكْمَةِ النَّاثِرِ

تَنْثُرُهُ بِحِكْمَةِ النَّاثِرِ

Nor would we have excelled at prose, were it not for a breeze

Without the breeze scattering wisdom

That she scatters with the wisdom of a prose writer.

We wouldn't find prose

وَلَا عَرَفْنَا الحُبَّ يَجْرِي دَمًا

وَلَا عَرَفْنَا الحُبَّ يَجْرِي دَمًا

فِي جِسْمِنَا بِالجَوْهَرِ الطَّاهِرِ

فِي جِسْمِنَا بِالجَوْهَرِ الطَّاهِرِ

Nor would we have known love flowing as blood

Without the pure essence flowing as blood

Through our body, pure in essence,

Through our bodies we wouldn't know love

لَوْلَا اعْتِنَاقُ البَانِ فِي أَيْكِهَا

لَوْلَا اعْتِنَاقُ البَانِ فِي أَيْكِهَا

وَقبلَةُ الطَّائِرِ لِلطَّائِرِ

وَقبلَةُ الطَّائِرِ لِلطَّائِرِ

Were it not for the moringa trees embracing in her grove,

Without the embrace of branches

And one bird’s kiss to another.

And a bird's kiss for a bird