سَلْ بِي وَبِالأَيَّامِ تَعْرِفْ

سَلْ بِي وَبِالأَيَّامِ تَعْرِفْ

أَنِّي ابْنُ دَهْرٍ لِيْسَ يُنْصِفْ

أَنِّي ابْنُ دَهْرٍ لِيْسَ يُنْصِفْ

Ask about me and the days, and you will learn

Ask about me, and from days gone by learn

That I am a son of an age that does not deal fairly,

That I'm a son of Time, so rarely fair.

وَبَلاَغَةٍ مَعْرُوفَةٍ

وَبَلاَغَةٍ مَعْرُوفَةٍ

سَهُلَتْ وَأَخْطَأَهَا التَّكَلُّفْ

سَهُلَتْ وَأَخْطَأَهَا التَّكَلُّفْ

And of well-known eloquence

With eloquence known far and wide

That came easily, untouched by affectation,

Comes ease, not pretense and contrived air.

وَسُطُورِ خَطٍّ مُونَقٍ

وَسُطُورِ خَطٍّ مُونَقٍ

فِي الطِّرْسِ كَالنُّوْرِ المُفَوَّفْ

فِي الطِّرْسِ كَالنُّوْرِ المُفَوَّفْ

And of lines of elegant script

Lines in flowing script, illuminated

On the parchment, like striped blossoms.

On leaflets, glow as wafting light so fair.

وَالْخَطُّ لِيْسَ بِنَافِعٍ

وَالْخَطُّ لِيْسَ بِنَافِعٍ

مَا لَمْ يَكُنْ خَطَّاً مُصَحَّفْ

مَا لَمْ يَكُنْ خَطَّاً مُصَحَّفْ

And script is of no use

But lines bring gain not, however fine,

Unless its dots are changed, turning 'script' into 'luck'.

Unless as Sacred Text they shine out there.