مَا لِلمَلِيكِ مُؤَرَّقاً يَتَقَلَّبُ

مَا لِلمَلِيكِ مُؤَرَّقاً يَتَقَلَّبُ

هَلْ يَحْمِلُ الْهَمَّ السَّرِيرُ المُذْهَبُ

هَلْ يَحْمِلُ الْهَمَّ السَّرِيرُ المُذْهَبُ

What ails the king, sleepless and tossing and turning?

Why does the King lie sleepless, tossing and turning?

Does the gilded bed bear worry?

Can his gilded bed bear the burden of his cares?

أَنْتَ الرَّجَاءُ فَأَيَّ شَيْءٍ تَرْتَجِي

أَنْتَ الرَّجَاءُ فَأَيَّ شَيْءٍ تَرْتَجِي

وَالرَّوْعُ أَنْتَ فَأَيَّ شَيْءٍ تَرْهَبُ

وَالرَّوْعُ أَنْتَ فَأَيَّ شَيْءٍ تَرْهَبُ

You are hope—so what do you hope for?

You are hope itself, so what is there to dread?

And you are terror—so what do you fear?

You are might itself, so what is there to fear?

وَالمُلكُ جِسْمٌ أَنْتَ فِيهِ هَامَةٌ

وَالمُلكُ جِسْمٌ أَنْتَ فِيهِ هَامَةٌ

وَيَدَاكَ مَشْرِقُ شَمْسِهِ وَالمَغْرِبِ

وَيَدَاكَ مَشْرِقُ شَمْسِهِ وَالمَغْرِبِ

And the kingdom is a body in which you are the head.

The kingdom is but a body, you are its spirit.

And your two hands are the rising and setting places of its sun.

Your hands hold both sunrise and sunset.