يا ويحَ روحي لَكم عاصيتُ عُذّالا

حَتّى جَرَرتُ إِلى الآثامِ أَذيالا

Oh woe is my soul, how often I disobeyed the Just

Dragging my robes through sins and crimes

أَيامَ أَصبُو إلى هَصرِ القُدودِ وَتَف

ريكِ النُهودِ وَنَضوِ الرَود مِفضالا

Days I yearn for the fragrance of ambergris and camphor

And the bubbling springs and meadows so delightful

وَالدَهرُ في غَفلاتٍ مِن تَواصُلِنا

قَد غَضَّ طَرفاً وَلَم يَجعَل لَنا بالا

And Time in our heedlessness of each other’s company

Has turned its glance and left us without concern

أَوقاتُنا ذَهبيّاتٌ نُسَرُّ بِها

كَأَنَّما أَنشأَت في الدَهرِ أُصّالا

Our days are golden, we revel in them

As though made just for joy in this life

وَبي مِن التُركِ مَن لَو كُنتُ أَذكُرُه

لأَصبَحَ الدَهرُ مِن ذِكراهُ مُختالا

And I have among the Turks someone, if I remembered him

Life itself would pride itself on recalling him

تَظَلُّ شَمسُ الضُحى خجلى إِذا بصرت

بِهِ وَيَسجُدُ بَدرُ الأُفقِ إِجلالا

The morning sun hides its face in shame

When it sees him, and the horizon moon bows in awe

للحسنِ جِنسٌ وَنَوعٌ كانَ قَد حُصِرا

في شَخصِهِ إِذ لَهُ لَم تُلفِ أَمثالا

For beauty he has a race and kind that once

Were confined in him, as none can match him

يديرُ لَخصاءَ فيها سكرُ من رَمَقت

كَأنَّ في اللَحظِ نَبّاذاً وَنَبالا

He sways slender waists wherein the drunk of a glance

Seems in the eyes a draft of wine

وَيَنثَني خُوطَ بانٍ فَوقَ حِقف نَقاً

كَأنّ في الخَصر أَرماحاً وَأَرمالا

And he bends a figure with curves over firm breasts

As though in his waist were spears and shields

قَد كانَ هَذا وريعانُ الشَبابِ لَنا

غضٌّ وَطَرفُ الصِبا في حَلبةٍ جالا

This had been the first fuzz of youth for us

Young and new, the springtide of our days in bloom

وَالآن أَحدثَ شَيبي فيَّ ضَعفَ قِوىً

وَأَورَثَ القَلبَ أَوجاعاً وَأَوجالا

And now my white hair brought me frail strength

And bequeathed my heart pains and sorrows

وَصارَمَتنِي وَصارَمتُ الغَوانيَ لا

يَجفلن بي كُلَها في ودِّهِ حالا

And he turned from me and I from delusions, still

Unperturbed, they surround me with affection

وَتُبتُ لِلّهِ أَرجُو مِنهُ مَغفِرَةً

وَرَحمَةً تُوسِعُ المِسكين أَفضالا

And I repent to God, hoping from Him forgiveness,

And mercy to expand the poor man’s boons

فَالحَمدُ لِلّهِ إِذ لَم يَأتِني أَجَلي

حَتّى اِكتَسَيتُ مِن الطاعاتِ سِربالا

So praise God that death has not yet come to me

That I clothed myself in righteous deeds aplenty