غادِ النَّدَى بِالْجِيزَةِ الفَيْحَاءِ

غادِ النَّدَى بِالْجِيزَةِ الفَيْحَاءِ

واحْدُ الصَّبُوحَ بِنَغْمَةِ الوَرْقَاءِ

واحْدُ الصَّبُوحَ بِنَغْمَةِ الوَرْقَاءِ

Greet the dew at dawn in spacious Giza,

The dew descended in the spacious valley,

And urge on the morning draught with the gray dove's song.

And dawn shone with the melody of the foliage,

والْمَحْ بِطَرْفِكَ ما وَحَتْهُ يَدُ الصَّبا

والْمَحْ بِطَرْفِكَ ما وَحَتْهُ يَدُ الصَّبا

فَوْقَ الْغَدِيرِ تَجِدْ حُروفَ هِجاءِ

فَوْقَ الْغَدِيرِ تَجِدْ حُروفَ هِجاءِ

And glimpse with your eye what the east wind's hand has written

Your glance cannot reach what the morning breeze wrote,

Upon the pool—you will find letters of the alphabet.

Above the pond you will find scribbled letters,

مِنْ كُلِّ حَرْفٍ فيهِ مَعْنَى صَبْوَةٍ

مِنْ كُلِّ حَرْفٍ فيهِ مَعْنَى صَبْوَةٍ

تَتْلُو بِهِ الوَرْقَاءُ لَحْنَ غِنَاءِ

تَتْلُو بِهِ الوَرْقَاءُ لَحْنَ غِنَاءِ

From every letter in it comes a sense of longing,

Each letter has the meaning of a passing rapture,

With which the gray dove chants a tuneful song.

With it the foliage sings a melody of singing,

مَيْدَانُ سَبْقٍ لِلْخَلاعَةِ أَشْرَقَتْ

مَيْدَانُ سَبْقٍ لِلْخَلاعَةِ أَشْرَقَتْ

فيهِ الْكُمَيْتُ بِغُرَّةٍ غَرَّاءِ

فيهِ الْكُمَيْتُ بِغُرَّةٍ غَرَّاءِ

A racecourse for revelry: there shines

The racecourse for steeds gleamed,

Within it the dark-red wine with a dazzling white blaze.

There the bay horse shone with a glossy chestnut color,

حَمْرَاءُ دارَ بها الْحَبابُ كأَنَّها

حَمْرَاءُ دارَ بها الْحَبابُ كأَنَّها

شَفَقٌ بَدَتْ فِيهِ نُجُومُ سَماءِ

شَفَقٌ بَدَتْ فِيهِ نُجُومُ سَماءِ

Red, with bubbles circling it, as though it were

Red are the abodes where friends dwelt as though it were

A twilight glow in which heaven's stars appeared.

A sunset in which the stars of the sky appeared,

هِيَ كالأَشِعَّةِ غَيْرَ أَنَّ ضِيَاءَها

هِيَ كالأَشِعَّةِ غَيْرَ أَنَّ ضِيَاءَها

مِنْ ذاتِها لا مِنْ ثُقُوبِ ضِياءِ

مِنْ ذاتِها لا مِنْ ثُقُوبِ ضِياءِ

It is like rays of light, save that its radiance

They are like rays except that their light

Comes from itself, not from the blazing of a light.

Is from themselves not from perforations of light,

وإِذا رَجَعْتَ إِلى الْيَقِينِ فَإِنَّها

وإِذا رَجَعْتَ إِلى الْيَقِينِ فَإِنَّها

نارٌ تَحَلَّلَ جِسْمُها في ماءِ

نارٌ تَحَلَّلَ جِسْمُها في ماءِ

And if you return to certainty, it is indeed

And if you return to the truth they are

Fire whose body has dissolved in water.

A fire whose body dissolved in water,

تَجْرِي فَتَفْعَلُ بالْعُقُولِ كُؤُوسُها

تَجْرِي فَتَفْعَلُ بالْعُقُولِ كُؤُوسُها

ما تَفْعَلُ الأَلْحَاظُ بالأَحْشَاءِ

ما تَفْعَلُ الأَلْحَاظُ بالأَحْشَاءِ

It flows, and its cups do to minds

It flows and intoxicates minds with its goblets

What glances do to the depths of hearts.

As glances intoxicate hearts,

خَفِيَتْ عَلَى الأَحْقَابِ فَهِيَ ذَخِيرَةٌ

خَفِيَتْ عَلَى الأَحْقَابِ فَهِيَ ذَخِيرَةٌ

مِنْ عَهدِ آدَمَ أُودِعَتْ بِوِعاءِ

مِنْ عَهدِ آدَمَ أُودِعَتْ بِوِعاءِ

It lay hidden through the ages; thus it is a treasure

It was hidden from eras so it is a treasure

Stored in a vessel since the time of Adam.

Deposited in a container since Adam's time,

مَحَقَ الْفَنَاءُ وُجُودَها فَتَزَايَلَتْ

مَحَقَ الْفَنَاءُ وُجُودَها فَتَزَايَلَتْ

إِلاَّ نَسِيماً شَفَّ عَنْ حَوْباءِ

إِلاَّ نَسِيماً شَفَّ عَنْ حَوْباءِ

Annihilation effaced its being, and it vanished,

Oblivion erased its existence so it vanished

Save for a breath that let a soul show through.

Except as a breeze that blew away dust,

هِيَ جَمْرَةُ الفُرْسِ الَّتِي سَجَدَتْ لَهَا

هِيَ جَمْرَةُ الفُرْسِ الَّتِي سَجَدَتْ لَهَا

أَملاكُها في سَالِفِ الآنَاءِ

أَملاكُها في سَالِفِ الآنَاءِ

It is the Persians' ember, before which bowed

It is the embers of the steed to which

Their kings in days long past.

Its angels prostrated in bygone days,

فَانْهَضْ إِلَى شُرْبِ الصَّبُوحِ فَقَدْ بَدَا

فَانْهَضْ إِلَى شُرْبِ الصَّبُوحِ فَقَدْ بَدَا

شَيْبُ الصَّباحِ بِلِمَّةِ الظَّلْماءِ

شَيْبُ الصَّباحِ بِلِمَّةِ الظَّلْماءِ

So rise to drink the morning draught, for now has appeared

So get up and drink the dawn for the gray hair

The gray hair of dawn in darkness's locks.

Of morning has appeared with darkness,

وَتَرَنَّمَتْ في وَكْرِها سَحَرِيَّةٌ

وَتَرَنَّمَتْ في وَكْرِها سَحَرِيَّةٌ

تُغْنِي الْمَقَامَةَ عَنْ صَفِيرِ النَّاءِ

تُغْنِي الْمَقَامَةَ عَنْ صَفِيرِ النَّاءِ

And a dawn-songstress has warbled in her nest,

And a sorceress crooned in her den,

Sparing the gathering the need for the flute's piping:

Making music instead of the whistling of the flute,

وَرْقاءُ تَسْجَعُ في سَماوَةِ أَيْكَةٍ

وَرْقاءُ تَسْجَعُ في سَماوَةِ أَيْكَةٍ

مَوْشِيَّةِ الْعَذَباتِ بِالأَنْدَاءِ

مَوْشِيَّةِ الْعَذَباتِ بِالأَنْدَاءِ

A gray dove, cooing in a grove's high canopy,

The foliage sings saj‘ in the stillness of a meadow

Whose branch-tips are embroidered with dew.

Grazed by the gentle, crying camels,

تَبْكِي الْهَدِيلَ وَما رَأَتْهُ فَيَا لَها

تَبْكِي الْهَدِيلَ وَما رَأَتْهُ فَيَا لَها

مِنْ ذُكْرَةٍ عَرَضَتْ بِغَيْرِ لِقاءِ

مِنْ ذُكْرَةٍ عَرَضَتْ بِغَيْرِ لِقاءِ

She mourns al-Hadil, though she has never seen him—oh, what

It weeps the warble though it never saw it

A remembrance that arose without a meeting!

What a rememberance occurred without meeting!

قَدْ أَشْبَهَتْنِي في الْهَوى لَكِنَّها

قَدْ أَشْبَهَتْنِي في الْهَوى لَكِنَّها

لَمْ تَحْكِني في لَوْعَتِي وَبُكائِي

لَمْ تَحْكِني في لَوْعَتِي وَبُكائِي

Indeed, she resembles me in love, yet she

It resembled me in love but it

Has not matched me in my anguish and my weeping.

Did not share with me my burning and crying,

مَالَ النَّسِيمُ بِهَا وَمَالَ بِيَ الأَسَى

مَالَ النَّسِيمُ بِهَا وَمَالَ بِيَ الأَسَى

شَتَّانَ بَيْنَ نَعِيمِها وَشَقائِي

شَتَّانَ بَيْنَ نَعِيمِها وَشَقائِي

The breeze sways her, and sorrow sways me;

The breeze leaned toward it while grief leaned toward me

How far apart are her bliss and my misery!

Far apart are its bliss and my misery!

أَنَا يَا حَمَامَةُ مِنْكِ أَعْلَمُ بِالْهَوى

أَنَا يَا حَمَامَةُ مِنْكِ أَعْلَمُ بِالْهَوى

فَدَعي الْحَنِينَ فَلَسْتِ مِنْ أَكْفائِي

فَدَعي الْحَنِينَ فَلَسْتِ مِنْ أَكْفائِي

I, O dove, know more of love than you;

I, o turtledove, know more of love than you

So leave your yearning, for you are not among my equals.

So leave yearning for you are not my equal,

إِنِّي امْرُؤٌ مَلَكَ الودادُ قِيَادَتِي

إِنِّي امْرُؤٌ مَلَكَ الودادُ قِيَادَتِي

وَجَرَى عَلَى صِدْقِ الْعُهُودِ وَفائِي

وَجَرَى عَلَى صِدْقِ الْعُهُودِ وَفائِي

I am a man whose reins affection has seized,

I am a man led by affection

And my fidelity has kept to true pledges.

And the truth of pacts and loyalty flows in me,

لا أَسْتَرِيحُ إِلَى السُّلُوِّ وَلَوْ جَنَى

لا أَسْتَرِيحُ إِلَى السُّلُوِّ وَلَوْ جَنَى

خِلِّي عَلَيَّ وَلا أَشِينُ وَلائِي

خِلِّي عَلَيَّ وَلا أَشِينُ وَلائِي

I find no comfort in forgetting, even should

I find no peace in diversion even if

My beloved wrong me; nor do I stain my loyalty.

My bosom friend acts foolishly toward me,

لا ذِمَّتِي رَهْنُ الْفِكَاكِ وَلا يَدِي

لا ذِمَّتِي رَهْنُ الْفِكَاكِ وَلا يَدِي

تُلْقِي أَزِمَّةَ عِفَّتِي وَحَبائِي

تُلْقِي أَزِمَّةَ عِفَّتِي وَحَبائِي

My pledge is no pawn to be redeemed, nor does my hand

My integrity is not hostage to ransom nor does

Cast away the reins of my chastity and generosity.

My hand cast off the crisis of my chastity and loves,

لَكِنَّنِي غَرَضٌ لأَسْهُمِ حاسِدٍ

لَكِنَّنِي غَرَضٌ لأَسْهُمِ حاسِدٍ

وارِي الجَوانِحِ مِنْ لَهِيبِ عِدَائِي

وارِي الجَوانِحِ مِنْ لَهِيبِ عِدَائِي

But I am a target for an envier's arrows,

But I am a target for the arrows of envious people

Whose breast burns with the flame of enmity toward me,

Who protect themselves from the flames of my enemies,

مِنْ غَيْرِ ما ذَنْبٍ جَنَيْتُ وَإِنَّما

مِنْ غَيْرِ ما ذَنْبٍ جَنَيْتُ وَإِنَّما

بُغْضُ الْفَضِيلَةِ شِيمَةُ الْجُهَلاءِ

بُغْضُ الْفَضِيلَةِ شِيمَةُ الْجُهَلاءِ

Without my having committed any sin; it is only that

Without any crime I am attacked only because

Hatred of virtue is the nature of the ignorant.

Hatred of merit is the way of ignoramuses,

تَعِست مُقارَنَةُ اللَّئِيمِ فَإِنَّها

تَعِست مُقارَنَةُ اللَّئِيمِ فَإِنَّها

شَرَقُ النُّفُوسِ وَمِحْنَةُ الْكُرَمَاءِ

شَرَقُ النُّفُوسِ وَمِحْنَةُ الْكُرَمَاءِ

Cursed be association with the base, for it is

Evil company is wretched for it is

A choking of souls and an ordeal for the noble.

The rising of souls and trial of generous people,

أَنا في زَمانٍ غادِرٍ وَمَعَاشِرٍ

أَنا في زَمانٍ غادِرٍ وَمَعَاشِرٍ

يَتَلَوَّنُونَ تَلَوُّنَ الْحِرْباءِ

يَتَلَوَّنُونَ تَلَوُّنَ الْحِرْباءِ

I live in a treacherous age, among companions

I live in a betraying and treacherous time,

Who change colors as the chameleon does.

Changing color like the chameleon,

أَعْداءُ غَيْبٍ لَيْسَ يَسْلَمُ صاحِبٌ

أَعْداءُ غَيْبٍ لَيْسَ يَسْلَمُ صاحِبٌ

مِنْهُمْ وإِخْوَةُ مَحْضَرٍ وَرَخَاءِ

مِنْهُمْ وإِخْوَةُ مَحْضَرٍ وَرَخَاءِ

Enemies in absence—no companion is safe

Hidden enemies no friend is safe from

From them—yet brothers in one's presence and prosperity.

And brothers of the present and ease,

أَقْبِحْ بِهِمْ قَوْماً بَلَوْتُ إِخاءَهُمْ

أَقْبِحْ بِهِمْ قَوْماً بَلَوْتُ إِخاءَهُمْ

فَبَلَوْتُ أَقْبَحَ ذِمَّةٍ وَإِخَاءِ

فَبَلَوْتُ أَقْبَحَ ذِمَّةٍ وَإِخَاءِ

How vile a people they are! I tested their brotherhood,

I tried the brotherhood of a people so I tried

And experienced the vilest pledge and brotherhood.

The ugliest pact and brotherhood,

قَدْ أَصْبَحُوا للدَّهْرِ سُبَّةَ ناقِمٍ

قَدْ أَصْبَحُوا للدَّهْرِ سُبَّةَ ناقِمٍ

فِي كُلِّ مَصْدَرِ مِحْنَةٍ وَبَلاءِ

فِي كُلِّ مَصْدَرِ مِحْنَةٍ وَبَلاءِ

They have become an embittered man's reproach against Time,

They have become for fate an object of blame

At every source of affliction and calamity.

In every source of ordeal and affliction,

وَأَشَدُّ مَا يَلْقَى الْفَتَى فِي دَهْرِهِ

وَأَشَدُّ مَا يَلْقَى الْفَتَى فِي دَهْرِهِ

فَقْدُ الْكِرَامِ وصُحْبَةُ اللُّؤَمَاءِ

فَقْدُ الْكِرَامِ وصُحْبَةُ اللُّؤَمَاءِ

And the harshest thing a man encounters in his lifetime

The harshest that the youth faces in his time

Is the loss of the noble and the company of the base.

Is loss of honor and company of villains,

شَقِيَ ابنُ آدَمَ في الزّمانِ بِعَقلِهِ

شَقِيَ ابنُ آدَمَ في الزّمانِ بِعَقلِهِ

إِنَّ الْفَضِيلَةَ آفَةُ الْعُقَلاءِ

إِنَّ الْفَضِيلَةَ آفَةُ الْعُقَلاءِ

The son of Adam suffers in life because of his reason;

Man is wretched in time because of his intellect

Indeed, virtue is the bane of the wise.

For merit is the bane of rational people.