هَديّةُ اللهِ في القُرآنِ تُدَّكَرُ

هَديّةُ اللهِ في القُرآنِ تُدَّكَرُ

فيها البَيانُ بَهيٌّ تاجُهُ دُرَرُ

فيها البَيانُ بَهيٌّ تاجُهُ دُرَرُ

God's gift is remembered in the Qur'an.

God's gift in the Quran is pondered

In her, eloquence is splendid, with pearls for its crown.

Its eloquence is radiant, its crown adorned with pearls

ضَادُ النَّفائِسِ قَدْ أَزْهَتْ طَيالِسُها

ضَادُ النَّفائِسِ قَدْ أَزْهَتْ طَيالِسُها

وَمِنْ سَناها ارْتَدى أنْوارَهُ السَّحَرُ

وَمِنْ سَناها ارْتَدى أنْوارَهُ السَّحَرُ

The Ḍād of treasures—her mantles have grown radiant.

The source of rarities has made its hills shine

And from her radiance, the predawn hour donned its lights.

And from its brilliance the dawn is reflected

عِقْيانُها خالِصٌ لا زَيْفَ يُبْخِسُهُ

عِقْيانُها خالِصٌ لا زَيْفَ يُبْخِسُهُ

نَقيِّةُ الحَرْفِ لا عَيْجٌ ولا زَوَرُ

نَقيِّةُ الحَرْفِ لا عَيْجٌ ولا زَوَرُ

Her gold is pure; no adulteration devalues it.

Its springs are pure, no falsehood can diminish them

Pure in her letters, she has neither deviation nor crookedness.

The letter is sincere, no turbulence or deceit

ما طال غَربٌ جُمانَ الضَّادِ في لُغَةٍ

ما طال غَربٌ جُمانَ الضَّادِ في لُغَةٍ

إنَّ الجُمانَ لها يسعى ويَعْتمِرُ

إنَّ الجُمانَ لها يسعى ويَعْتمِرُ

The West has not attained the pearls of Ḍād in any language.

However long the ignorance of the West lasts

Indeed, the pearls hasten to her and make pilgrimage.

It yearns for and visits its perfection

هِيَ الدَرَاريُّ إنْ أدْجَتْ مَحابِرُنا

هِيَ الدَرَاريُّ إنْ أدْجَتْ مَحابِرُنا

مَدارُ أنْوارِها يَزْهو ويَنْتَشِرُ

مَدارُ أنْوارِها يَزْهو ويَنْتَشِرُ

She is the shining stars if our inkwells turn dark.

It is the brilliant, if our platforms enlighten

The orbit of her lights shines and spreads.

The orbit of its light glows and expands

تَجَلَّلَتْ بِبَديعٍ لا نَظيرَ لَهُ

تَجَلَّلَتْ بِبَديعٍ لا نَظيرَ لَهُ

وجهُ البَلاغَةِ في مرآتِها قمَرُ

وجهُ البَلاغَةِ في مرآتِها قمَرُ

She has cloaked herself in wondrous beauty without equal.

It is adorned with unmatched eloquence

The face of eloquence is a moon in her mirror.

The face of rhetoric gleams in its mirror like the moon

عَذيبةٌ النُّطقِ في أعْطافِها نَغَمٌ

عَذيبةٌ النُّطقِ في أعْطافِها نَغَمٌ

مِن سحْرهِ يَتَجَلّى اللحْنُ والوَتَرُ

مِن سحْرهِ يَتَجَلّى اللحْنُ والوَتَرُ

She is sweet of speech; melody lies in her folds.

Melodious in pronunciation on its edges is a tune

From its magic, melody and string reveal themselves.

From its magic, melody and rhythm manifest

وَيَستَقي اللفْظُ مِنْها سِحْرَ دَهْشَتِهِ

وَيَستَقي اللفْظُ مِنْها سِحْرَ دَهْشَتِهِ

يخْتالُ في فَيْئِها المعْنى ويَزْدَهِرُ

يخْتالُ في فَيْئِها المعْنى ويَزْدَهِرُ

And the word draws from her the magic of its wonder.

And speech draws from it the charm of its splendor

Meaning struts in her shade and flourishes.

Meaning struts in its open space and flourishes

سَحائِبٌ وَطِفَت بالغيثِ مُتْرَعَةٌ

سَحائِبٌ وَطِفَت بالغيثِ مُتْرَعَةٌ

تَسْقي الكَلامَ نَميرًا ليسَ يَعْتَكِرُ

تَسْقي الكَلامَ نَميرًا ليسَ يَعْتَكِرُ

Clouds have grown dense, brimming with rain;

Clouds hovered, saturated with rain

They water speech with pure water that does not turn murky.

Watering speech steadily without stirring sediment

هتّانَةُ الهَطْلِ من طُلابِها اقْتَرَبَتْ

هتّانَةُ الهَطْلِ من طُلابِها اقْتَرَبَتْ

كَأَنَّها دِيَمٌ تَدْنو وتَنْهَمِرُ

كَأَنَّها دِيَمٌ تَدْنو وتَنْهَمِرُ

Steady in rainfall, she has drawn near her seekers,

The pouring rain drew near its students

As though she were lasting showers, drawing near and pouring down.

As if it were a constant drizzle, approaching and flooding

كَمْ مِنْ مَدادٍ روَى أسْرارَ رَوْعَتِها

كَمْ مِنْ مَدادٍ روَى أسْرارَ رَوْعَتِها

خَوْطُ الفَصاحَةِ في أكْنافِها نَضِرُ

خَوْطُ الفَصاحَةِ في أكْنافِها نَضِرُ

How much ink has recounted the secrets of her splendor!

How much ink conveyed the secrets of its meadows

The tender shoot of eloquence is verdant within her folds.

The line of eloquence flourishes in its valleys

تَسْري بِأَوْرِدَةِ الأَشْعارِ في دَعَةٍ

تَسْري بِأَوْرِدَةِ الأَشْعارِ في دَعَةٍ

كَما الرِّهامُ فُراتَ الغَيْثِ تَدَّخِرُ

كَما الرِّهامُ فُراتَ الغَيْثِ تَدَّخِرُ

She flows through the veins of poems in quiet ease,

It flows with the veins of poetry effortlessly

As fine showers store up the sweet water of rain.

As the drizzle seeps into the abundant rain

النَّثْرُ في رَكْبِها قَدْ مادَ مُنْتَشِيًا

النَّثْرُ في رَكْبِها قَدْ مادَ مُنْتَشِيًا

والشِّعْرُ مِنْ حبرها يُسْقى فيبتكِرُ

والشِّعْرُ مِنْ حبرها يُسْقى فيبتكِرُ

Prose has swayed, enraptured, in her cavalcade,

Prose in its travels wanders invigorated

And poetry is given her ink to drink, and so creates anew.

And poetry by its ink is watered and sprouts

لا غروَ إنْ جاوَزت حَدَّ المدى ألَقًا

لا غروَ إنْ جاوَزت حَدَّ المدى ألَقًا

واسْتَوْطَنَتْ بَرْزَخًا تَشْتاقُهُ البَشَرُ

واسْتَوْطَنَتْ بَرْزَخًا تَشْتاقُهُ البَشَرُ

No wonder if she has surpassed the farthest bounds in brilliance,

No wonder it exceeded the ultimate in sublimity

And settled in an in-between realm that humankind longs for.

And settled in a sphere the human aspires to

ما مسَّها رَطَنٌ ما شابَها زَلَلٌ

ما مسَّها رَطَنٌ ما شابَها زَلَلٌ

أعجوبةٌ وَبها قَدْ حارَتِ الفِكَرُ

أعجوبةٌ وَبها قَدْ حارَتِ الفِكَرُ

No foreign jargon has touched her; no error has tainted her.

It is untouched by rambling, unmarred by any lapse

A marvel—and thoughts have been bewildered by her.

A marvel - it has baffled thought

قَدْ وقَّرَ الخَلقُ بالتَّقْديسِ ساحَتَها

قَدْ وقَّرَ الخَلقُ بالتَّقْديسِ ساحَتَها

لأنَّها لُغَةٌ قَدْ شاءَها القدَرُ

لأنَّها لُغَةٌ قَدْ شاءَها القدَرُ

Creation has honored her precinct with sacred reverence,

Creation sanctified its realm with glorification

Because she is a language that destiny has willed.

For it is a language ordained by fate