Original Poem in Arabic
ياقَرحُ لَم يَندَمِلِ الأَوَّلُ
فَهَل بِقَلبي لَكُما مَحمَلُ
جُرحانِ في جِسمٍ ضَعيفِ القِوى
حَيثُ أَصابا فَهُوَ المَقتَلُ
تَقاسَمُ الأَيّامُ أَحبابَنا
وَقِسمُها الأَفضَلُ وَالأَجمَلُ
وَلَيتَها إِذ أَخَذَت قِسمَها
عَن قِسمِنا تُغمِضُ أَو تَغفَلُ
وُقّيتَ في الآخِرِ مِن صَرفِها ال
جائِرِ ما جَرَّعَكَ الأَوَّلُ
فَفِديَةُ المَأسورِ مَقبولَةٌ
وَفِدِيَةُ المَيِيتِ لا تُقبَلُ
لا تَعدَمَنَّ الصَبرَ في حالَةٍ
فَإِنَّهُ لَلخُلُقُ الأَجمَلُ
وَعِشتُ في عِزٍّ وَفي نِعمَةٍ
وَجَدُّكَ المُقتَبِلُ المُقبِلُ
Translation
O wound, the first has not yet healed,
Is there still room in my heart for you?
Two wounds in a weak body,
Where they struck, is the fatal blow.
The days have taken our loved ones,
And the best and most beautiful part as well.
If only, when fate took its share,
It would turn a blind eye to ours, even for a moment.
You were spared, in the end, from the cruelty of fate,
For what the first wound has made you drink.
The ransom for the captive is accepted,
But the ransom for the dead is not.
Never be without patience in any state,
For it is the most beautiful of virtues.
I lived in honor and grace,
With fortune embracing and favoring me.
