لا يَنفَعُ الجِدُّ وَالتَشميرُ وَالحَذَرُ

خُطَّ الكِتابُ فَلا وِردٌ وَلا صَدَرُ

Effort and toil and care avail me naught,

The pen hath written what it hath writ.

تَستَعجِلُ النَفسُ آمالاً لِتَبلُغَها

كَأَنَّها لا تَرى ما يَصنَعُ القَدَرُ

My soul is eager for the things it wants,

As though it knew not what Almighty Allah did decree.