1. When this gray hair appeared and its
Strands began to grieve for you, O hills,

2. I saw death first cast its dart,
And never saw the days aim truer.

3. The nights attacked me with hoariness,
And the strands of this gray hair will remain youthful.

4. He who combs it reaches the riches of his lifetime,
Even if he lives for ages, counting the nights.

5. It's as though I and this grayness had an appointment,
So when the time arrived, it came to meet me.

6. It's as though the grayness came to it angry
At us, so it bent down in blame upon my cheeks.