1. Alas, my people, beware the strokes of fate,
And the branch battered daily by the lopper.

2. People are either glorious till their day is done,
Or long enduring of disasters heaped upon them.

3. And death's deception - if we shun its edge
Comes round as though we hadn't shunned each side.

4. It loads on us blow after redoubled blow,
Steps toward us through each door and crevice.

5. So many flee, hoping to evade its havoc,
Though fed by it - no refuge for the fleer!

6. We are but fodder for time's treadmill treading,
Our eyes filled up with freaks and prodigies.

7. We flock to life's parade and drink it in,
Though marvels of the strange repel us from it.

8. We've drained the cup of this world's changeful days,
Though sometimes loosed by hands of players.

9. And rhythmically the death we're dealt still gives us
The asps' venom or the scorpions' stings to taste.

10. My friend whose death took off its mourning for me -
Not like the writs of plaint or censure-bearing.

11. It shrouded him in death's most ample robe, and stilled
The songs of praise, repute's proud trumpeting.

12. My friends, mourn one whose nearness gave me joy
A time, from hearing suffering's threnodies.

13. For my desire of him - true, guileless -
Of pure complexion, free from blames degrading.

14. My cousin in true love, my nearest kin,
My closest chum, if e'er my chum proved faithless.

15. He whom I never grudged sincere respect,
Nor faulted for perverse and crooked thinking.

16. A flavor, as if immortality were sweet
To one who tastes it, as if wine flowed clear for drinker.

17. And when I tried true friends and their affection,
I singled him out from life's tangled trials;

18. So fastened I my heart to him, filled with longing,
Shut in my hands on him, grasped in my fingers.

19. For him we split the sod, as though we'd pierced
A lore of tenderness from it, with yearning.

20. And from the sides of his grave gently sifted
A soil on which the sweet rain poured its freshness.

21. Alas! Left to sadness without him,
Indeed for loss of you I'm ever sad.

22. You died, but in destruction, not in loss
You died; yet lost to me - my hopes, desires!

23. So I'm a lone and single man, but for
A visitor who brings me pensive thoughts.

24. And had it not been Time that you subdued,
We would have struck at it with swords and lances.

25. And men, true men of Lu'ayy ibn Ghalib
Would have repelled your wrong, till wrong retreated.

26. When called, they take to ghoul-infested battle
On steeds trained late and early for the noblest war,

27. Daring, rapacious horsemen, preying on
The necks of death or backs of boasters.

28. And how oft for each formidable task
Their bared arms rally, or their ranks engage!

29. May God water - for you it covers - the grave
That you have filled, now sated with pouring rain,

30. Its thunder shakes the atmosphere with crashes,
Its lightning kindles flame and gleam above it.

31. Though from it the north wind tears away its coolness
On hasty wings constructed by the south wind;

32. Why should I pray the clouds to rain upon it
When I have wept for it in flood, torrents?