1. أَما وَالَّذي لا يَعلَمُ الغَيبَ غَيرُهُ

    وَيُحيّ العِظامَ البيضَ وَهيَ رَميمُ

    Indeed, by Him who alone knows the unseen,

    and revives the white bones when they have crumbled:

  2. لَقَد كُنتُ أَطوي البَطنَ وَالزادُ يُشتَهى

    مَخافَةَ يَوماً أَن يُقالَ لَئيمُ

    I would indeed keep my belly empty, though provisions were craved,

    for fear that one day I might be called a miser.

  3. وَما كانَ بي ما كانَ وَاللَيلُ مِلبَسٌ

    رِواقٌ لَهُ فَوقَ الإِكامِ بَهيمُ

    Nor was it in me, whatever befell me—when night was a cloak,

    its canopy pitch-black above the hills—

  4. أَلُفُّ بِحِلسي الزادَ مِن دونِ صُحبَتي

    وَقَد آبَ نَجمٌ وَاِستَقَلَّ نُجومُ

    to wrap provisions in my saddlecloth, apart from my companions,

    when a star had set and other stars had risen.