إِذا كان وِردُ الموتِ ضَربَةَ لازِبِ

إِذا كان وِردُ الموتِ ضَربَةَ لازِبِ

فَطولُ سُرورِ المَرءِ موعِدُ كاذِبِ

فَطولُ سُرورِ المَرءِ موعِدُ كاذِبِ

If drinking death's draught is inevitable,

If death's stroke is the doom of the unprepared,

Then a man's lasting joy is a liar's promise.

Then lasting joy for man is but false hope.

فَلا تَغتَرِر بِالعَيشِ واحذَر فَإنما

فَلا تَغتَرِر بِالعَيشِ واحذَر فَإنما

صَفاءُ اللَيالي هُدنَةٌ من مُحارِبِ

صَفاءُ اللَيالي هُدنَةٌ من مُحارِبِ

So do not be deceived by life; beware, for

So be not fooled by life, but beware, for verily

The calm of nights is merely a warrior's truce.

The serenity of nights is but a truce from the warring fates.

يَبيتُ الفتى خِلوَ الفؤادِ كَأنَّه

يَبيتُ الفتى خِلوَ الفؤادِ كَأنَّه

رَأى بَينَهُ سدّاً وبين النوائِب

رَأى بَينَهُ سدّاً وبين النوائِب

A young man spends the night, his heart carefree, as though

The youth sleeps with anxious heart as though

He had seen a barrier between himself and calamities.

He sees a barrier 'twixt him and misfortunes.

بِرَغمِيَ أن يُدعى تُرابا وَأَعظُماً

بِرَغمِيَ أن يُدعى تُرابا وَأَعظُماً

فتىً كان يُدعى قبلُ أَكتبَ كاتِب

فتىً كان يُدعى قبلُ أَكتبَ كاتِب

It grieves me that he should be called dust and bones—

Though I be but dust, I am greater

A young man once called the finest of writers.

Than the youth who was once called "scribe".

فتىً كانت الأَقلامُ تَشهَدُ أنَّهُ

فتىً كانت الأَقلامُ تَشهَدُ أنَّهُ

يُجلُّ مقامَ الكُتبِ فوق الكتائِب

يُجلُّ مقامَ الكُتبِ فوق الكتائِب

A young man: the pens bore witness that he

A youth whom pens testified was nobler

Held books in higher esteem than battalions.

Than books though they sit atop shelves.

هوَى كَوكَباً ما البَدرُ ليلَة تمَّهِ

هوَى كَوكَباً ما البَدرُ ليلَة تمَّهِ

بِأَفتَكَ من لألائهِ بِالغَياهِبِ

بِأَفتَكَ من لألائهِ بِالغَياهِبِ

He fell, a star; not even the moon on its fullest night

He outshone the full moon on its brightest night

Is more deadly to the depths of darkness than his radiance.

With a brilliance to shame the stars.

فتىً طَبعُه قد كانَ كالماءِ رِقَّةً

فتىً طَبعُه قد كانَ كالماءِ رِقَّةً

فَلو صُبَّ في كَأسٍ لَساغَ لِشارِبِ

فَلو صُبَّ في كَأسٍ لَساغَ لِشارِبِ

A young man whose nature was as gentle as water;

A youth whose nature was as gentle as water -

So, were it poured into a cup, it would go down easily for a drinker.

Had it been poured into a cup, it would have quenched any thirst.

فَيا راحلا قد غاب عنّا ومن تَكُن

فَيا راحلا قد غاب عنّا ومن تَكُن

كَذِكراكَ ذِكراهُ فَلَيسَ بِغائِب

كَذِكراكَ ذِكراهُ فَلَيسَ بِغائِب

So, O departed one, gone from us—one whose

So farewell, o traveler who left us! And he who remembers you

Remembrance is like yours is not absent.

Does not forget you though you are absent.

سَلَبتَ النُهى حَيّاً بِباهرِ حكمةٍ

سَلَبتَ النُهى حَيّاً بِباهرِ حكمةٍ

وَعاطرِ أخلاقٍ وَرِقَّةِ جانِبِ

وَعاطرِ أخلاقٍ وَرِقَّةِ جانِبِ

You captivated minds in life with dazzling wisdom,

You were moral while alive with sublime wisdom

And fragrant virtues and gentleness of manner.

And fragrant morals and gentle demeanor.

عليكَ منَ الفَضل السَلامُ فإنَّه

عليكَ منَ الفَضل السَلامُ فإنَّه

بِفَقدِكَ أمسى فاقِداً خيرَ صاحب

بِفَقدِكَ أمسى فاقِداً خيرَ صاحب

Peace be upon you from Excellence, for it

Peace be upon you, for with your loss

Has, in losing you, lost its best companion.

The best of friends became bereft.

وَلا زالَ مُنهَلُّ الدموعِ مُلازِماً

وَلا زالَ مُنهَلُّ الدموعِ مُلازِماً

ثَراكَ يُجاري فيه فَيضَ السَحائِب

ثَراكَ يُجاري فيه فَيضَ السَحائِب

And may the outpouring of tears forever cling to

And the spring of tears still flows

Your grave's earth, rivaling there the flood from the clouds.

Watering your tomb, matching the rain clouds.