ليلُ الشّبابِ تَولَّى
والشّيبُ صبحٌ تأَلّقْ
The night of youth has departed,
And gray hair—a dawn—has gleamed.
ما الشَّيبُ إلاّ غبارٌ
من ركضِ عُمري تَعلّقْ
Gray hair is nothing but dust
That clung from the galloping of my life.
ركبتُ لمّا تكهَّلْ
تُ بعدَ أَدْهَمَ أبلَق
I mounted when I grew middle—
Aged—after a black steed, a piebald one.
وضاعَ مفتاحُ وصل ال
حسان فالبابُ مُغلقْ
The key to union with the
Beauties was lost, so the door is closed.
ولا حِزامي وثيقٌ
ولا عناني مُطلقْ
Neither is my saddle-girth secure,
Nor is my rein set free.
gpt-5.6-sol