سمعتُ رميم الشعر في القبر هاتِفاً

سمعتُ رميم الشعر في القبر هاتِفاً

لقد ضيّعوا فخري فماتَ بهِم ذِكري

لقد ضيّعوا فخري فماتَ بهِم ذِكري

I heard poetry’s mouldering remains calling out in the grave:

I heard the remnants of poetry in the grave calling out

“They have indeed squandered my glory, so because of them my memory died.”

They wasted my pride, so my memory died with them

فأولَيتهُ بالجد روحاً جديدَةً

فأولَيتهُ بالجد روحاً جديدَةً

وصيّرتهُ بعد البلى آيةَ العَصرِ

وصيّرتهُ بعد البلى آيةَ العَصرِ

So through earnest effort I bestowed on it a new soul,

But I revived it sincerely with a new spirit

And after decay I made it the marvel of the age.

And after decay, I made it a sign of the age