حَبَّذا الساحَةُ وَالظِلُّ الظَليل

How wonderful is the courtyard and the deep shade, and a lovely praise upon the mouth of the house.

It continues to flow beneath the soil through it: the deep ocean of benevolence and the abundant Nile.

The work of Ismail—magnificent is his hand; every building bears witness to the builder.

Could it be a threshold from his gate, opened for goodness generation after generation?

A playground of the days, yet the share of serious endeavor within it is not small.

People witnessed within it a returning benefit, while the dove's cooing stirred the generations.

We inaugurated within its heights a state whose pillars are high nobility and ancient glory.

It flourished for a long age and arrived before the long era could renew itself.

How often we wove laurel in its sanctuary and bound it for an authentic forerunner.

How many full moons were bid farewell on the day of parting, and suns seen off on the day of departure.

Many a seedling passed by for charity surged with goodness and the yielding, gracious gift.

The orphans laughed on its night, and the ailing walked seeking recovery.

The wretched and grace met within it, and the shelter hastened toward the sons of the road.

From the earth come barrenness and moisture; from the houses come the generous and the miser.

O upright youth gathered together by a dwelling whose guest is never blamed.

It turns the youths away from tainted watering holes and steers them clear of perilous pastures.

Go forth within it and come as brothers, each of you a close companion and intimate friend.

Let not its smallness harm you; every newborn, however grand, starts tiny.

A faction whispered falsehoods about your affairs, followers of whim, straying from fairness.

Make patience your stratagem against them; clever tricks fall short in endless gossip.

Do they want you to combine frailty of faith with a feeble character?

The earth has emptied of proper guidance and of any mentor capable of steering the youth.

Thus you see the family in chaos and youth straying from the path of righteousness.

Do not be the harsh, roaring flood whenever it surges; rather, be the sweet Salsabil spring.

Many a generous, humble eye has watered the grass while never forgetting the palm trees.

Do not argue with people over what they believe; every soul has its book and its path.

And when you come to your club, cast the heavy burden far behind you.

This is your night at the Opera House—the Night of Power from the noble month.

A festival around which the Guide hovered, with Gabriel walking right before him.

Faces shone bright, adorned by gleams of goodness flowing outward.

As if the night cleared away with the dawn, and as if the house rested in the late afternoon shade.

O generous ones, we cannot repay you; the pure joy of doing good replaces all rewards.

The man of the nation is one upon whom people count for grand assistance in monumental tasks.

Indeed, a house you have surrounded with bounty has taken an oath of bounty never to swerve.