1. Take the stance of doubt, neither despair nor greed,
Deceive life, neither patience nor panic,

2. And trick the heart that grief does not love it
If it is a heart that continues to be deceived by the past,

3. And lie to yourself that hope extends to it,
Indeed, hope is cut off by the honesty of the self,

4. I asked my companions where they went,
Away from us, and which valleys did they ascend after us

5. They challenged fate with their misfortunes until it persisted with them
The guide of destinies who does not swerve with them

6. They disappeared, so a pleasant view disappeared from the world and its inhabitants
Of the world and what it hears,

7. My father's sons, he lamented you with his complaint,
And this stubborn, unyielding time got what it wanted,

8. You were shining stars for the gloomy one,
Your lights illuminate the dark nights and armored ones,

9. If after your lights were shattered, your clothes tore the veil of darkness,
The sun's rays would be cut off,

10. Since you were shrouded in the prime of glory, it has been a burden on time
And the high have submission on their cheeks,

11. And because of the tumult, there is confusion in the valleys and because of
The lowering of the flags, there is submission since you were evicted,

12. Calamities with which the hands of death shook,
So the steadfast surrendered and the resistant submitted,

13. They did not lack a day of war under its awning,
Where the eagle of war fell on their skulls,

14. They did not take off their turbans except that gray hair and pulling out sprouted from them,
We race death recklessly with our souls,

15. As if we draw lots against generations,
I cry for them while the hand of time insists

16. On serving me the remnants of the cup they drank,
I do not doubt that I am being dragged to a term,

17. They were dragged to it the day before yesterday, or departed,
And that I am bound for the number they arrived at,

18. Willingly or knocking on the door they knocked on,
The mouths of the deep graves were blocked with them,

19. And the earth has no irrigation or satisfaction,
I got used to them, I do not hope that any past

20. Returns to me, nor do I have any greed for them,
So my heart does not flare up for people

21. Who were accustomed to the days, so they returned,
It is nice that the fates graze our souls,

22. And we are all planted for the dark fates,
We play and we only crave ruin,

23. And time masticates us and the earth swallows us,
Braids from the essence of glory, they never agonized

24. Over the like of their souls, not a day, nor agonized,
They were the guardians of the mountains of glory, so they vanished,

25. And they cracked the peaks of the highest when they cracked,
Cavalrymen who undermined their predecessors,

26. So they were brought down by the stabs of fate and uprooted,
A people whose amusement was striking gleaming swords,

27. And under the armpits they had the tips of spears,
Whether a catastrophe came upon them from the days,

28. They withstood it and bore the burden and took it on,
Hardship descending on them does not subdue them,

29. Nor do greed and tranquility lead them,
How many disgraces in which glory had a shelter,

30. And times of hunger in which shame and destitution dwelled,
From every conqueror looking down on a fiery horse,

31. For him there is a banner above the noble that is followed,
The crown is hidden by the brilliance of his youthfulness

32. Upon a forehead shining with the light of glory,
One with determination that inspires the world and its inhabitants,

33. And ambition encompassing the world and what it encompasses,
He meets censure unveiled, his warriors appear

34. And terrorizes blame one day while armored,
Indeed calamities make one forgetful when they come,

35. He takes the path to what comforts and what troubles,
Until when their covers are removed from him,

36. Man discerns what comes and what leaves,
The breeze anchored in your valley and did not leave

37. The burdens of sorrow pregnant in your intestines,
And the seedling of plants continues to suckle

38. Upon your graves the dewy whimper
Do you know that with your distance the conscience longs for you

39. And clings, and from our livers for fate there are flames
Of anguish, and what is pushed back from our depths,

40. Torments my tears have pronounced that my entrails and ribs
Almost stammer with, I shed my tears until I did not leave

41. An abundance that flows down to a cheek when it falls,
Then I was compelled to my patience, so I sought refuge in it,

42. And patience expressed when grief stammered,