لَئِن أَيامنا أَمسَت طِوالاً

لَقَد كُنّا نَعيشُ بِها قِصارا

Though our days have grown long

We lived them short, once upon a time

رأَيتُ الغانياتِ نفرنَ لَمّا

رأينَ الشيبَ أَلبَسَني عِذارا

When the singing girls saw me, they flocked

But now that grey hair clothes me, they shun in scorn

وَما يُنكرنَ مِن قَمَرٍ مُنيرٍ

بَعُيْدَ شَبابِه لقيَ السرارا

Nor do they deny the shining moon

After the springtide of its youth, it suffered loss