"Al Maghrib" Special edition. Commemoration of the 40th day after the loss of Said Hajji, sixth year - No. 937 April 29, 1942
Tears from my eyes and from my heart too,
Join in unison with my harp to cry for you.
The muse abandoned me the day of your departure
As Allah is my witness, I was of pallid composure.
I whispered in secret that I must support
And acquiesce to the fates' final sort.
At the end of my strength, overwhelmed by grief
I suffer a thousand deaths, tortured with no relief.
Yesterday it was Hassar followed by the great academic
Our two rising stars extinguished, a start of an epidemic?
Swept by Death's hand the one and the other
Victims by the whims of misfortune's rudder.
Bad consequences of life, be what they may,
Can be surmounted, as well as their disarray.
Aside your heavy loss, a wound that is gaping
The heart feels bruised, our reasoning tottering.
It's the ruin of a soul, this desolation
That caught up to the body of our nation.
This imposing funeral cortege, I will never forget
On the shoulders of friends the deceased was set.
Forging a path towards his ultimate resting place
In the midst of a large crowd with pain on its face.
Scene of pride this covered coffin of one so keen
To his national colors of a flag red and green.
Upon which the Lord grants peaceful serenity,
Majestic and calm, in its sovereign clarity.
I forever shall recall those hands outstretched
To broken hearts and to souls deeply distressed
By one who, like a mother, a banner has protected
From all sacrileges to which it had been subjected.
You left too soon, leaving behind a lonely orphan
Who cries and laments like an angelic munchkin.
Culture's temple which owes you its ascension
Its introspection gripped by nostalgic tension.
What to say of those angels, the organs of the press
Still in the peak of youth; touched deeply they confess.
Those jewels of newspapers where great ideas are brewed
Where grand principles, are sifted from the inane and crude.
Those two publications, beaming with delicateness
Are far from being happy; more inclined to sadness.
The scenes of distress whose images I seek
Occupy my thoughts, overshadow words I speak.
Sleep noble heroes, in this moist earthen bed
Modest before God, humble and well bred.
Forget all your worries. leave them behind
A lifetime of troubles suffice, rest your mind.
Your active support for common good all your life
History will guard your legacy and laud your strife.
You have left works that will be remembered
Fruits of the intense labor that you endured.
"After your death, may all your memories survive.
For in their recall, you will always remain alive."