1. لِلوَردِ أَقول مُنتَهاك الفوتُ

    لِلبُلبُلِ لا شَكَّ يَصمّ الصوتُ

    To the rose I say: your end is death.

    To the nightingale: surely the voice will fall silent.

  2. يُطوى الوَرقُ الَّذي زَهاهُ نَشرٌ

    لَولا قِصَرُ العُمرِ لَطابَ الوَقتُ

    The petals that fragrance adorned are folded away.

    Were life not so short, time would be sweet.