أَلَيسَ عَجيباً بِأَنَّ الفَتى

يُصابُ بِبَعضِ الَّذي في يَدَيهِ

Is it not strange how the young man

Gets afflicted by some of what is in his hands

فَمِن بَينِ باكٍ لَهُ موجعٍ

وَبَينَ مُعَزٍّ مُغِذٍّ إِلَيهِ

So between one who weeps for him in pain

And one who consoles him and nourishes him

وَيَسلُبُهُ الشَيبُ شَرخَ الشَبابِ

فَلَيسَ يُعزّيهِ خَلقٌ عَلَيهِ

And old age robs him of his prime

Yet no soul can comfort him