1. O son of the best of mankind, the call of a servant
Whose vigor the events of time have bitten

2. Indeed, the awfulness of the Reckoning has shown me the color
Of my gray hair in the prime of my youth

3. Whenever I say it is morning, it soon becomes night
At times distant, at others near

4. It comes close to me at times and goes away at others
So many are its comings and goings

5. How can I withstand the Reckoning with a mind
That is not free of distraction and confusion

6. So deliver me, O son of the best of creations
And protect me from the awfulness of the Day of Reckoning

7. And forbid yourself from turning away from my plea
Or prolonging your reproach of me

8. Sleep has filled the eyelids and mind
So permit us, O scion of the most virtuous nobles

9. For how many invaders are there in our thoughts
And battles that exhaust even the brave hero