1. I regret the era of youth that went by,
Its days, nay my own days,

2. I do not regret it for the sake of youth's playfulness,
The union with a singing girl, or the drinking of wine,

3. But for my own hardness and fighting battles,
At which death itself recoiled from my audacity,

4. With my sword in hand, whenever I unsheathed it
On a day of battle, I would sheathe it in brains,

5. And I broke the ribs of chests steadfast as pillars
Against the chest of a charging army,

6. And the battle with bold horsemen, all of them,
Because of my terrible onslaught and stance,

7. And for my killing of ferocious lions, we put them down
Like thunder crashing against the sides of clouds,

8. It would find, if it met them, a lion having
Might to ravage the protected sanctuaries,

9. If the eye of Abi Zubayd saw
My killings, he would refrain out of awe,

10. Then after eighty, I took up the staff
Sure that it warns of my expiration.