هُنَاhere الْكَلِمَاتُthe words تَلْتَحِفُwrap themselves in السَّوَادَblackness
هُنَا الْكَلِمَاتُ تَلْتَحِفُ السَّوَادَ
وَتُرْسِلُand send لِلْوَرَىto humankind جُرْحًاa wound مُعَادَاrenewed
وَتُرْسِلُ لِلْوَرَى جُرْحًا مُعَادَا
Here, words wrap themselves in black,
and send humankind a wound renewed.
هُنَاhere الْحُزْنُsorrow الْمُسَافِرُjourneying فِيin الْحَشَايَاthe innermost depths
هُنَا الْحُزْنُ الْمُسَافِرُ فِي الْحَشَايَا
وَمَاand not أَبْقَىleft لِذِيfor a bearer of نَعْيٍnews of death مِدَادَاink
وَمَا أَبْقَى لِذِي نَعْيٍ مِدَادَا
Here is sorrow, journeying through the innermost depths,
and it has left no ink for a bearer of death's news.
سُؤَالٌa question ظَلَّkept يُشْقِينِيtormenting me زَمَانًاfor a time
سُؤَالٌ ظَلَّ يُشْقِينِي زَمَانًا
بِظُلْمَتِهِwith its darkness وَيَسْلُبُنِيand robs me of الرُّقَادَاsleep
بِظُلْمَتِهِ وَيَسْلُبُنِي الرُّقَادَا
A question kept tormenting me for a time,
with its darkness, and robbing me of sleep:
أَمَاتَhas ... died? أَبُوfather of الْمَكَارِمِnoble deeds وَالسَّجَايَاand virtues
أَمَاتَ أَبُو الْمَكَارِمِ وَالسَّجَايَا
وَغَابَand departed "مُحَمَّدٌMuhammad" الْأَنْقَىthe purest فُؤَادَاin heart؟
وَغَابَ "مُحَمَّدٌ" الْأَنْقَى فُؤَادَا؟
Has the father of noble deeds and virtues died,
and has Muhammad, the purest of heart, departed?
وَأَجْمَلُand the finest مَنْthose whom صَحِبْتُI befriended بِكُلِّwith all حُبٍّlove
وَأَجْمَلُ مَنْ صَحِبْتُ بِكُلِّ حُبٍّ
أَخٌa brother شَهْمٌnoble-hearted يُشَاطِرُنِيshares with me الْوِدَادَاaffection
أَخٌ شَهْمٌ يُشَاطِرُنِي الْوِدَادَا
And the finest of those I befriended with all my love:
a noble brother who shares my affection.
بِقَلْبٍwith a heart شَاكِرٍgrateful يَدْعُوhe calls upon قَرِيبًاone who is near
بِقَلْبٍ شَاكِرٍ يَدْعُو قَرِيبًا
مِنَto الدَّاعِينَthose who invoke يَاO نِعْمَhow excellent الْمُنَادَىthe One invoked
مِنَ الدَّاعِينَ يَا نِعْمَ الْمُنَادَى
With a grateful heart, he calls upon One close
to those who pray—O, how excellent the One invoked!
فَكَمْfor how often كُنْتَyou were الصَّبُورَsteadfastly patient عَلَىin the face of بَلَاءٍan affliction
فَكَمْ كُنْتَ الصَّبُورَ عَلَى بَلَاءٍ
وَكُنْتَand you were تَرَىyou see لِكُلِّfor every أَسًىsorrow ضِمَادَاa bandage
وَكُنْتَ تَرَى لِكُلِّ أَسًى ضِمَادَا
For how often you were steadfastly patient in affliction,
and you saw a bandage for every sorrow.
إِلَىto الرَّبِّthe Lord الْمُجِيبِthe One who answers لَكَfor you الْتِجَاءُseeking refuge
إِلَى الرَّبِّ الْمُجِيبِ لَكَ الْتِجَاءُ
فَتَبْلُغُso you attain فِيin تَقَرُّبِكَyour drawing near الْمُرَادَاthe desired end
فَتَبْلُغُ فِي تَقَرُّبِكَ الْمُرَادَا
To the Lord who answers, you turn for refuge,
so by drawing near to Him, you attain what you seek.
أُوَدِّعُI bid farewell to فِيكَin you يَاO "ابْنَson of الْعَمِّthe paternal uncle" رُوحًاa soul
أُوَدِّعُ فِيكَ يَا "ابْنَ الْعَمِّ" رُوحًا
تُضِيءُshines تُقًىpiety وَتُلْهِمُنَاand inspires us to السَّدَادَاuprightness
تُضِيءُ تُقًى وَتُلْهِمُنَا السَّدَادَا
In you, O cousin, I bid farewell to a soul
that shines with piety and inspires us to uprightness.
بِأَرْبَعَةٍwith four سِجَامٍstreaming with tears جِئْتُI came أَبْكِيI weep
بِأَرْبَعَةٍ سِجَامٍ جِئْتُ أَبْكِي
وَلِيand I have قَلْبٌa heart لَبِسْتُI donned بِهِwith it حِدَادَاmourning
وَلِي قَلْبٌ لَبِسْتُ بِهِ حِدَادَا
With four streaming tear ducts, I have come to weep,
and in my heart I have donned mourning.
تَفِيضُpour forth لِرُوحِكَfor your soul الرَّحَمَاتُmercies تَتْرَىone after another
تَفِيضُ لِرُوحِكَ الرَّحَمَاتُ تَتْرَى
وَتُبْسَطُand is spread out جَنَّةُthe Garden of الْمَأْوَىRefuge مِهَادَاa bed
وَتُبْسَطُ جَنَّةُ الْمَأْوَى مِهَادَا
Mercies pour upon your soul, one after another,
and the Garden of Refuge is spread out as a bed.
وَدَاعًاfarewell يَاO أَخَاbrother of السَّلْوَىsolace وَدَاعًاfarewell
وَدَاعًا يَا أَخَا السَّلْوَى وَدَاعًا
لِأُخْرَىfor another لَاnot نَرَىwe see فِيهَاin it سُهَادَاsleeplessness
لِأُخْرَى لَا نَرَى فِيهَا سُهَادَا
Farewell, O brother of solace, farewell,
for another life, where we shall know no sleeplessness,
عَلَىon سُرُرٍcouches بَطَائِنُهَاtheir linings حَرِيرٌsilk
عَلَى سُرُرٍ بَطَائِنُهَا حَرِيرٌ
وَنُلْهَمُand we are inspired مِنْfrom وَسَائِدِنَاour pillows الرَّشَادَاright guidance
وَنُلْهَمُ مِنْ وَسَائِدِنَا الرَّشَادَا
upon couches whose linings are silk,
and from our pillows we are inspired with right guidance.
18/12/1447هـAH (Hijri era)
18/12/1447هـ
18/12/1447 AH