أُرَاجِعُ نَفْسِي هَلْ أَنَا ذَلِكَ الَّذِي

أُرَاجِعُ نَفْسِي هَلْ أَنَا ذَلِكَ الَّذِي

عَهِدْتُ بِأَمْسِي أَمْ أَنَا رَجُلٌ ثَانِ

عَهِدْتُ بِأَمْسِي أَمْ أَنَا رَجُلٌ ثَانِ

I search my soul: am I the same man

I examine myself: am I the one whom

I knew in my yesterdays, or am I someone else?

I knew in days past, or am I another man?

عَلِمْتُ صُنُوفَ العِلْمِ دَرساً وَخِبْرَةً

عَلِمْتُ صُنُوفَ العِلْمِ دَرساً وَخِبْرَةً

فَمَا لِي بَلَغْتُ الْجَهْلَ فِي مُنْتَهى شَانِي

فَمَا لِي بَلَغْتُ الْجَهْلَ فِي مُنْتَهى شَانِي

I learned the many branches of knowledge through study and experience;

I learned many kinds of knowledge through study and experience;

what is wrong with me, that I have reached ignorance at its furthest bound—what a state!

Why, then, have I reached ignorance at the height of my standing?

أَرَانِي بَعْدَ الشَّيْبِ عَاوَدَنِي الهَوَى

أَرَانِي بَعْدَ الشَّيْبِ عَاوَدَنِي الهَوَى

فَرَدَّ صِبَى الدُّنْيا عَليَّ وَأَصْبَانِي

فَرَدَّ صِبَى الدُّنْيا عَليَّ وَأَصْبَانِي

I see that, after my hair turned gray, passion has returned to me,

I find myself, after my hair has grayed, revisited by love;

restoring the world's youth to me and making me lovestruck.

So it restored the world's youth to me and made me love-struck.

غَدَوْتُ كَأَنِّي مَا عَرَفْتُ حَقِيقَةً

غَدَوْتُ كَأَنِّي مَا عَرَفْتُ حَقِيقَةً

وَهَلْ أَنَا إِنْ يَدْعُ الهَوَى غَيْرُ إِنْسَانِ

وَهَلْ أَنَا إِنْ يَدْعُ الهَوَى غَيْرُ إِنْسَانِ

I have become as though I had never known a single truth;

I have become as though I had never known a truth;

and if love calls, am I anything but human?

And if love calls, am I anything but human?

فَيَا لِيَ مِنْ كَهْلٍ يُرَى وَهْوَ جَاثِمٌ

فَيَا لِيَ مِنْ كَهْلٍ يُرَى وَهْوَ جَاثِمٌ

كَطِفْلٍ عَلَى شَيْءٍ يُقَلِّبُهُ حَانِ

كَطِفْلٍ عَلَى شَيْءٍ يُقَلِّبُهُ حَانِ

Ah, look at me—a middle-aged man, seen crouching

So, what a sight I am—a middle-aged man seen crouching,

like a child bent over something, turning it this way and that:

Like a child leaning over something he turns about.

بِكَفَيَّ مِنَ النُّوَّارِ ذَاتُ أَشِعَّةٍ

بِكَفَيَّ مِنَ النُّوَّارِ ذَاتُ أَشِعَّةٍ

لَهَا قُرْصُ شَمْسٍ زَانَهُ تَاجُ أَلوَانِ

لَهَا قُرْصُ شَمْسٍ زَانَهُ تَاجُ أَلوَانِ

in his two palms, a blossom radiant with rays,

In my palms is a blossom bearing rays,

with a sunlike disk adorned by a crown of colors.

With a sun's disk adorned by a crown of colors.

فَبَيْنَا أُجِيلُ الطَّرْفَ فِي قِسَمَاتِهَا

فَبَيْنَا أُجِيلُ الطَّرْفَ فِي قِسَمَاتِهَا

وَثَمَّ فُنُونٌ مِنْ جَمَالٍ وَإِتْقَانِ

وَثَمَّ فُنُونٌ مِنْ جَمَالٍ وَإِتْقَانِ

As I let my gaze roam over its features,

So, as I let my gaze roam over its features—

where manifold forms of beauty and artistry lay,

Where beauty and perfection take many forms—

إِذَا أَنَا لِلتَّاجِ المُنَظَّمِ نَاثِرٌ

إِذَا أَنَا لِلتَّاجِ المُنَظَّمِ نَاثِرٌ

تِباعاً وَلِي فِي ذَاكَ تَردِيدُ صِبْيَانِ

تِباعاً وَلِي فِي ذَاكَ تَردِيدُ صِبْيَانِ

suddenly I was scattering that ordered crown

Suddenly I am scattering its ordered crown,

one petal after another, repeating as children do.

One after another, repeating a children's refrain.

أُسَائِلُ أَوراقاً وَيَا لَيْتَ شِعْرَهَا

أُسَائِلُ أَوراقاً وَيَا لَيْتَ شِعْرَهَا

أَتَهْوَانِيَ الحَسْنَاءُ أَمْ لَيْسَ تَهْوَانِي

أَتَهْوَانِيَ الحَسْنَاءُ أَمْ لَيْسَ تَهْوَانِي

I questioned the petals—oh, if only I knew what they knew:

I question petals—and oh, if only they knew:

Does the fair one love me, or does she not love me?

Does the fair one love me, or does she not love me?