وإنَّ لِصَرفِ الدهرِ بين جوانحي

وإنَّ لِصَرفِ الدهرِ بين جوانحي

وقائعَ أنفاسي لُهنَّ غبارُ

وقائعَ أنفاسي لُهنَّ غبارُ

And indeed, within my breast, time’s vicissitudes wage

The turns of fate between my ribs

Battles, with my breaths as their dust.

Have made my breaths but dust;

تَوَلَّى شبابي فارتدَيتُ الرِّضى به

تَوَلَّى شبابي فارتدَيتُ الرِّضى به

ولا عجبٌ أن يُستَردَّ مُعارُ

ولا عجبٌ أن يُستَردَّ مُعارُ

My youth departed, so I clothed myself in acceptance of it;

My youth has passed, and so I don the raiment

And it is no wonder that something lent should be reclaimed.

Of acceptance. No wonder borrowed things are reclaimed.

وقالت تفاريقُ الشَّبَابِ بِلمَّتي

وقالت تفاريقُ الشَّبَابِ بِلمَّتي

تَمَتَّع فما بعدَ العَشيِّ عَرارُ

تَمَتَّع فما بعدَ العَشيِّ عَرارُ

And the scattered remnants of youth in my locks said:

The partings of youth said to me,

Enjoy yourself, for after evening there are no fragrant ʿarār blossoms.

"Take your pleasure, for nothing follows evening but gloom."