إِلامَuntil when تَجُرُّyou drag أَذيالَthe hems of التَصابيfeigned youthfulness
إِلامَ تَجُرُّ أَذيالَ التَصابي
وَشَيبُكَand your gray hair قَدalready نَعىannounced the death of بُردَthe mantle of الشَبابِyouth
وَشَيبُكَ قَد نَعى بُردَ الشَبابِ
How long will you drag the hems of feigned youth,
Why do you drag the skirts of youth
How long will you drag the trails of youthful passion,
when your gray hair has already announced the death of youth's mantle?
When your grey hair laments the cold of youth?
When your gray hair has announced the death of youth's cloak?
بِلالُBilal الشَيبُgray hair فيin فَودَيكَyour two temples نادىcalled out
بِلالُ الشَيبُ في فَودَيكَ نادى
بِأَعلىat the top of الصَوتِthe voice حَيَّhasten عَلىto الذَهابِdeparture
بِأَعلى الصَوتِ حَيَّ عَلى الذَهابِ
The Bilal of gray hair has called out at your temples,
The grey dusk on your cheeks calls out
The Bilal of grayness has called out from your temples,
at the top of his voice: 'Hasten to depart!'
In the loudest voice, “Farewell to youth!"
At the top of his voice: 'Hasten to departure!'
Sol 6.1