بَكيتُ عَلى الشَبابِ بِدَمعِ عَيني

بَكيتُ عَلى الشَبابِ بِدَمعِ عَيني

فَلَم يُغنِ البُكاءُ وَلا النَحيبُ

فَلَم يُغنِ البُكاءُ وَلا النَحيبُ

I wept for youth with tears from my eye,

With tears from my eyes, I wept for my youth

but neither weeping nor wailing availed.

But neither crying nor wailing was of use

فَيا أَسَفا أَسِفتُ عَلى شَبابِ

فَيا أَسَفا أَسِفتُ عَلى شَبابِ

نَعاهُ الشَيبُ وَالرَأسُ الخَضيبُ

نَعاهُ الشَيبُ وَالرَأسُ الخَضيبُ

Oh, what sorrow! I grieved for youth,

Alas, how I grieved for that youth

whose death gray hair and the dyed head proclaimed.

Lamented by gray hair and hoary head

عَريتُ مِنَ الشَبابِ وَكانَ غَضّاً

عَريتُ مِنَ الشَبابِ وَكانَ غَضّاً

كَما يَعرى مِنَ الوَرَقِ القَضيبُ

كَما يَعرى مِنَ الوَرَقِ القَضيبُ

I was stripped of youth, once fresh and tender,

I was stripped of my youth while still green

as a branch is stripped of leaves.

As a twig is stripped of its leaves

فَيا لَيتَ الشَبابَ يَعودُ يَوماً

فَيا لَيتَ الشَبابَ يَعودُ يَوماً

فَأُخبِرُهُ بِما صَنَعَ المَشيبُ

فَأُخبِرُهُ بِما صَنَعَ المَشيبُ

Oh, if only youth would return one day,

Oh, if only youth would return one day

so I could tell it what gray hair has done.

So I'd tell it what old age had done