Lebanon

Your dwelling is gardens and your water is Kawthar—
Lebanon, you are the supreme bliss.

Spring has draped your hills in silken mantles
that with their beauty ravish and captivate all who behold,

Embroidered robes whose broidery the rainbow
tends with everything that delights and enchants.

How wondrous the fabrics of mist that the waterfall
weaves from the cotton of the snows and spreads abroad!

When the noonday blaze grows fierce they become a canopy,
moist and cool, beneath which the green, dewy land lies shaded.

Lebanon, O land of shades, a dwelling
where the beloved summer is sweet and is preferred!

Your paths are strewn with roses and with dew,
and ambergris canopies whoever walks them toward you.

Your shady bowers are the very likeness of a garden
of love, resplendent with fair women, all in flower.

O playground of the gazelles, how many a meadow
where the fawn sports and the wild calf frolics!

Never have I beheld you for an hour but my heart
flew out to you, and what I gazed upon stirred me.

Lebanon, it is enough for the soul that you are a homeland—
O magic of all that beauty composes and scatters!