1. لِكُلِّ ما طالَ بِهِ الدَهرُ أَمَد

    لا والِداً يُبقي الرَدى وَلا وَلَد

    Everything that Time prolongs has an end.

    Death spares neither father nor child.

  2. يا راقِداً تَسُرُّهُ أَحلامُهُ

    رَقَدتَ وَالحِمامُ عَنكَ رَقَد

    O sleeper delighted by his dreams,

    you have slept, and death has slumbered apart from you.

  3. لا تُكذِبَن إِنَّ الحَياةَ عارَةٌ

    وَأَيُّما عارِيَةٍ لا تُستَرَد

    Do not deny it: life is a loan,

    and what loan is not reclaimed?

  4. وَالدَهرُ ذو غَوائِلٍ لا تُتَّقى

    أَحداثُهُ وَالمَوتُ بَعدُ بِالرَصَد

    Time harbors calamities; none can ward off

    its blows, and death still lies in wait.

  5. أَينَ المُلوكُ الصيدُ ما أَغناهُمُ

    ماجَمَعوهُ مِن عَديدٍ وَعَدَد

    Where are the proud kings? They were not helped by

    the multitudes and numbers they amassed.

  6. أَورَدَهُم ساقي الحِمامِ مَورِداً

    سَواءٌ الجِلَّةُ فيهِ وَالنَقَد

    Death's cupbearer brought them to a watering place

    where great camels and small sheep stand equal.

  7. وَيحَ اللَيالي كُلَّ يَومٍ صاحِباً

    تُنزِحُ مِنّا وَحَبيباً تَبتَعِد

    Woe to the nights! Every day a companion

    they carry away from us, and send a loved one far away.

  8. أَينَ لَيالينا عَلى كا ظِمِةٍ

    أَيّامَ عودُ شَملِنا لَم يَنحَصِد

    Where are our nights at Kazima,

    when the stalk of our union had not been reaped,

  9. وَالدَهرُ لَم تَفطَن لَنا صُروفُهُ

    بَعدُ وَأَشراكُ المَنايا لَم تُمَد

    while Time's reversals had not noticed us

    as yet, nor had death's snares been spread?

  10. يا حادِيَ الأَظعانِ في آثارِكُم

    مُهجَةُ مَسلوبِ العَزاءِ وَالجَلَد

    O driver of the camel-litters, in your wake

    lies the lifeblood of one robbed of solace and fortitude.

  11. فاجَأَهُ يَومُ الفِراقِ بَغتَةً

    لَم يَتَأَهَّب لِلنَوى وَلا اِستَعَد

    The day of parting took him suddenly unawares;

    he had not prepared for separation or made himself ready.

  12. قَد أَنَّسَت عَينِيَ مُذ تَوَحَّشَت

    دِيارُكُم إِلى الدُموعِ وَالسُهَد

    My eye has grown accustomed, ever since desolation overtook

    your dwellings, to tears and sleeplessness.

  13. يَعرِفُها القَلبُ عَلى خَرابِها

    وَالطَرفُ قَد أَنكَرَ مِنها ماعَهَد

    The heart recognizes them despite their ruin,

    while the eye no longer recognizes what it once knew of them.

  14. لا أَلِفَت بَعدَكُمُ العَينُ الكَرى

    وَلا حَلا بَعدَكُمُ العَيشُ النَكِد

    May my eye never welcome sleep after you,

    nor wretched life grow sweet after you.

  15. يا بِأَبي النائي البَعيدِ شَخصُهُ

    وَلا نَأى مَزارُهُ وَلا بَعِد

    O distant one, far away in person—my father be your ransom!

    Yet your resting place is neither remote nor far.

  16. ضَلَّت طَريقُ الصَبرِ بَعدَ فَقدِهِ

    لا وُجِدَ الصَبرُ وَأَنتَ المُفتَقَد

    The path of patience was lost after losing him;

    may patience never be found when you are the one lost.

  17. مَدَّ إِلَيكَ حادِثُ الدَهرِ يَداً

    لَيسَ عَليها قَوَدٌ وَلا أَوَد

    A calamity of Time stretched a hand toward you,

    against which no blood-retribution lies, and which never swerves.

  18. يا ساكِنَ اللَحدِ الَّذي أَفرَدَني

    مِن لاعِجِ الشَوقِ بِمِثلِ ما اِنفَرَد

    O dweller in the grave, who left me solitary,

    through searing longing, in a solitude like your own.

  19. إِن كُنتَ في ثَوبِ العُلى فَإِنَّني

    بَعدَكَ في ثَوبِ نُحولٍ وَكَمَد

    If you wear the robe of glory, then I

    wear, after you, the robe of wasting and grief.

  20. يا موحِشَ الأَرضِ عَلَيَّ فَقدُهُ

    حَتّى كَأَن لَيسَ عَلى الأَرضِ أَحَد

    O you whose loss has made the earth desolate for me,

    until it seems there is no one upon the earth.

  21. أَوحَدتَني وَفي الرِجالِ كَثرَةٌ

    يا قِلَّةَ الجارِ وَقِلَّةَ العِدَد

    You left me alone, though men are many;

    alas, how few the protectors, how scant the resources!

  22. كُنتَ إِذا جارَ الزَمانُ عَضُدي

    فَاليَومَ لا جارِحَةٌ وَلا عَضُد

    When Time was unjust, you were my supporting arm;

    but today, neither limb nor supporting arm remains.

  23. أَسلَمتَني إِلى الخُطوبِ وَاِنبَرَت

    بَعدَكَ في أَديمي وَبَعِد

    You surrendered me to calamities, and they assailed

    my skin after you, reaching far.

  24. مالَكَ لا تَرِقُّ لي مِن زَفرَةٍ

    تُلفِتُ أَثناءَ الفُؤادِ وَالكَبِد

    Why do you not pity me for a sigh

    that twists the folds of heart and liver?

  25. ما لَكَ لا تَرأَبُ أَحوالي وَلا

    تُصلِحُ آراؤُكَ مِنها ما فَسَد

    Why do you not mend my plight, nor do

    your counsels repair what has gone wrong with it?

  26. ما لَكَ لا تَرحَمُ ذُلَّ مَوقِفي

    وَكُنتَ أَحنا والِدٍ عَلى وَلَد

    Why do you not pity my abject state,

    when you were the tenderest father toward a child?

  27. غادَرتَني مُضَلَّلاً لا أَهتَدي

    نَهجَ السَبيلِ واجِداً ما لا أَجِد

    You left me bewildered, unable to find

    the course of the path, grieving for what I cannot find.

  28. قَعَدتَ عَن نَصري وَعَهدي بِكَ لا

    أَدعوكَ إِلّا قُمتَ مَشبوحَ العُضُد

    You hold back from helping me; yet I knew you thus: never

    did I call you but you rose, arms outstretched.

  29. يا مَورِدي العَذبَ النَميرَ ماؤُهُ

    أَورَدتَني بَعدَكَ أَوشالَ الثَمَد

    O my sweet watering place, so pure its water,

    you have led me, after you, to trickles in shallow pools.

  30. تِلكَ الدُموعُ الحائِراتُ ما رَقَت

    عَلى البِعادِ وَالغَليلُ ما بَرَد

    Those bewildered tears have not ceased

    over our separation, nor has the burning thirst cooled.

  31. يا لَكَ مِن رَزِيَّةٍ أَسرَفَ رَيبُ

    الدَهرِ في الرُزءِ بِها وَما اِقتَصَد

    What a calamity! Excessive were the blows

    of Time in inflicting this loss; they showed no restraint.

  32. رَزِيَّةٌ لَو يَعرِفُ الصَخرُ الأَسى

    ذابَ بِها أَوِ القُطارُ لَجَمَد

    A calamity that, if rock could know sorrow,

    would melt it, or freeze the falling rain.

  33. وا عَجَباً كَيفَ أَباحَ غَيلَهُ

    وَقامَ عَن شُبولِهِ ذاكَ الأَسَد

    Ah, wonder! How did he leave his lair exposed,

    and that lion depart from his cubs?

  34. كَيفَ خَبا النَجمُ فَغارَ ضَوؤُهُ

    كَيفَ هَوَت هِضابُ قُدسٍ وَأُحُد

    How did the star dim, its light sinking away?

    How did the heights of Quds and Uhud collapse?

  35. ما غابَ في التُربِ وَلَكِن كَوكَبٌ

    رَقى إِلى جَوِّ السَماءِ وَصَعِد

    He did not vanish into dust; rather, a star

    rose into the expanse of heaven and ascended.

  36. بَكَت مَصابيحُ الدُجى لِعائِدٍ

    تَهِبُّ في طِلابِهِ إِذا رَكَد

    The lamps of darkness wept for a returning visitor,

    stirring in search of him whenever he lay still.

  37. أَوحَشَ مِنهُ مُرتَقى دُعاتِهِ

    وَمُلتَقى الأَملاكِ كُلَّما سَجَد

    Desolate without him is his petitioners' place of ascent,

    and the angels' meeting-place whenever he prostrated.

  38. أُبرِزَتِ الحورُ إِلى لِقائِهِ

    وَأُزلِفَت لَدَيهِ جَنّاتُ الخُلُد

    The houris were brought forth to meet him,

    and the gardens of eternity were drawn near to him.

  39. سَقى الغَمامُ تُربَةً جاوَرَها

    مِنهُ وَقارٌ كَأَهاضيبِ أُحُد

    May clouds water the soil beside which rests

    his dignity, like the massive heights of Uhud.

  40. فَطالَما كُنّا عَلى المَحلِ بِهِ

    نَستَنزِلُ الغَيثَ إِذا القَطرُ جَمَد

    For often, through him, in times of drought we

    called down rain when its drops were held fast.