قُل لِاِبنِ حَربٍ طَيلَسانُكَ قَد

قُل لِاِبنِ حَربٍ طَيلَسانُكَ قَد

أَوهى قُوايَ بِكَثرَةِ الغُرَمِ

أَوهى قُوايَ بِكَثرَةِ الغُرَمِ

Tell Ibn Harb: your mantle has indeed

Tell the son of Harb, your long sword has weakened my strength through much misfortune,

sapped my strength through so much expense.

Its traces are clear to the discerning one, traces of the luxury of early nations,

مُتَبَيِّنٌ فيهِ لِمُبصِرِهِ

مُتَبَيِّنٌ فيهِ لِمُبصِرِهِ

آثارُ رَفوِ أَوائِلِ الأُمَمِ

آثارُ رَفوِ أَوائِلِ الأُمَمِ

Plain in it to anyone who sees it

So it seems like the wine described as "Oh soul inclined to evil wisdom!"

are traces of darning by the earliest peoples.

And if we mend it and are told "It is sound," it says "Nay, it is ruined."

فَكَأَنَّهُ الخَمرُ الَّتي وُصِفَت

فَكَأَنَّهُ الخَمرُ الَّتي وُصِفَت

في يا شَقيقَ الروحِ مِن حَكَمِ

في يا شَقيقَ الروحِ مِن حَكَمِ

So it is like the wine described

Like the sick man who seemed cured but relapsed, and surrendered himself to sickness,

in 'O brother of the soul, from Hakam.'

I recited this when passion overflowed and poetry failed me, for singing is the joy of old age.

وَإِذا رَمَمناهُ وَقيلَ لَنا

وَإِذا رَمَمناهُ وَقيلَ لَنا

قَد صَحَّ قالَ لَهُ البِلى اِنهَدِمِ

قَد صَحَّ قالَ لَهُ البِلى اِنهَدِمِ

And whenever we mend it and are told,

'It is sound now,' decay tells it, 'Collapse!'

مِثلُ السَقيمِ بَرا فَراجَعَهُ

مِثلُ السَقيمِ بَرا فَراجَعَهُ

نَكسٌ وَأَسلَمَهُ إِلى السَقَمِ

نَكسٌ وَأَسلَمَهُ إِلى السَقَمِ

Like a sick man who recovered, then was revisited by

a relapse that delivered him back to sickness.

أَنشَدتُ حينَ طَغى فَأَعجَزَني

أَنشَدتُ حينَ طَغى فَأَعجَزَني

وَمِنَ الغَناءِ رِياضَةُ الهَرِمِ

وَمِنَ الغَناءِ رِياضَةُ الهَرِمِ

I recited when it grew unruly and defeated me:

'And among useful pursuits is training the decrepit.'