طَوى العَصرانِ ما نَشَراهُ مِنّي

فَأَخلق جدّتي نَشرٌ وَطَيُّ

The twain folded what they spread of me,

So the nature of my grandsire is spreading and folding.

أراني في اِنتِقاصٍ كُلَّ يَومٍ

وَلا يَبقى عَلى الحدثانِ شَيُّ

I see myself decreasing every day,

Yet naught of youth remains with the boy.