كفى بسراجِ الشيب في الرأس هادياً

كفى بسراجِ الشيب في الرأس هادياً

إلى من أضلَّتهُ المنايا لياليا

إلى من أضلَّتهُ المنايا لياليا

The lamp of gray hair on the head is guide enough

The light of gray hair is guide enough

to one whom Death had lost track of for nights.

For him whom dark nights have led astray.

أمِنْ بعد إبداءِ المشيبِ مقَاتلي

أمِنْ بعد إبداءِ المشيبِ مقَاتلي

لرامي المنايا تحسبينيَ ناجيا

لرامي المنايا تحسبينيَ ناجيا

After gray hair has exposed my vital spots

You think, because my hair is turning gray,

to Death's archer, do you think I shall escape?

That I can't fight against death's deadly sway?

غدا الدهرُ يرميني فتدنو سهامُه

غدا الدهرُ يرميني فتدنو سهامُه

لشخصي وأَخلِقْ أن يصيب سَواديا

لشخصي وأَخلِقْ أن يصيب سَواديا

Time has taken to shooting at me, and its arrows draw near

Tomorrow fate will hurl its shafts at me;

to my form—and how likely it is to strike my silhouette!

Its arrows will be aimed right at my head.

وكان كرامي الليلِ يَرْمي ولا يرى

وكان كرامي الليلِ يَرْمي ولا يرى

فلما أضاء الشيبُ شَخْصِي رآنيا

فلما أضاء الشيبُ شَخْصِي رآنيا

It was like an archer at night, shooting without seeing;

My dark night used to shoot and miss its mark;

then, when gray hair lit up my form, it saw me.

Now that my hair shines bright, it sees its target.