مَن رَأنا فيُحَدِّث نَفسَهُ

أَنَّهُ مُوفٍ عَلَى قَرنِ زَوال

Whoever sees himself as firmly established

Will in time know the vicissitudes of fate;

وخُطوبُ الدَّهرِ لا يَبقَى لَها

ولِمَا تَأتي بهِ صُمُّ الجِبال

And whatever fate brings has no permanence,

Like the stubborn silence of mountains.

رُبَّ رَكبٍ قَد أَنَاخُوا عِندَنا

يَشرَبُونَ الَخمرَ بِالماءِ الزُّلال

Many riders once camped near us,

Drinking clear water mixed with wine.

والأَباريقُ عَلَيها فُدُمٌ

وعِتَاقُ الَخيلِ تَردي في الجِلال

Decanters were passed around,

And their horses wandered freely in the meadows.

عَمُروا دَهراً بِعَيشٍ حَسَنٍ

آمِني دَهرِهُمُ غَيرَ عِجال

For an age they lived most pleasantly,

Secure and free from haste.

ثُمًّ أَضحَوا أَخنَعَ الَّهرُ بهم

وكَذلكَ الدَّهرُ يُودي بِالجبال

Then fate made them examples

Of how it lays low even mountains.

وكَذاكَ الدَّهرُ يَرمي بالفَتَى

في طلابِ العَيشِ حالاً بَعدَ حال

Such is how fate casts the youth

From one condition to another.