1. Where is the vigor of youth, where has it gone?
Not lost, for it cannot be found, rather it's perished and gone.

2. Do not wonder, O Salma, at a man
Whose hair turned grey as he wept with laughter.

3. In his youth he would laugh heartily,
But grey hair came and scarce his laughter rang.

4. O Salma, grey hair brings no disgrace,
Neither loss of rule nor loss of reign.

5. His passion for the moon was cut short,
And he found the way to her shared by all.

6. With a promise of another, his quest was hindered,
Pouring his devotion upon her while others strove in vain.

7. Oh, how I wish I knew how you two sleep,
My friends, when my blood is spilled.

8. Take not my darkness to blame another,
For my heart and eyes in my blood are drowned.