قد صحّحَ العقل والتمييز والنظرُ

أن المنى غررٌ والموت منتظر

Reason has shown, and insight and reflection,

That bliss is fickle, and death lies in wait.

هذا يقين وهذا ربّما حجبَت

عنه الخطوب وصرف الدهر والحذر

This is certainty; the vicissitudes

Of fate may have veiled it from one less wary Who took no heed against misfortune's blows.

فخذ من الدين والدنيا بمقدرة

جهد المقل إذا ما أمكن القدر

So take your portion of religion and this world,

Matching your effort to what strength you have;

ولا تدع فرحا إلا صرفت به

وجه الهموم فباب الموت ينتظر

And let no joy distract you from the thought

That turns your cares aside, for death's door waits.

كم مرة سل هذا الموت صارمه

فاغتالني ثمّ جاء الدهر يعتذر

How often has that destroying death unsheathed

Its sword against me, then relented - time

أولى قبيحا وأولى بعده حسنا

هذا وهذا على ذا مرّت السير

Makes ugly fair, and fair again when gone:

Such are our natures in life's long wayfaring.