1. I remained with life while my poetry died
With my gray hair, disgrace purifies it

2. So my poetry is not shrouded in dye
Nor is it exposed to gazes

3. And he whom death took from you
Left you without a shroud, with sorrow remaining in you

4. So do not dye your gray hair to please the vain
And then sing happily while suffering miserably

5. For the witness of your fake dye is not given
With its falsehood, truth from the youth

6. So do not desire the young woman while you are an old man
For attaining her is far from capturing a neck