يا مُنضِيَ الطَرفِ في مَيدان لذته
وَناضي الطَرفِ بَينَ الراحِ وَالرُود
O you who weary your gaze in the arena of its pleasures,
and draw that gaze like a blade between wine and roses,
سَتَشربُ الراحَ راحَ الوَقتِ كارِهَةً
وَيَذهبُ الجسمُ بَينَ التُربِ وَالدُودِ
you shall drink another wine—the wine of Time—against your will,
and the body shall pass away amid dust and worms.
Sol 5.6