يبكي عَلى مَيتٍ وَيُغفِلُ نَفسَهُ

كَأَنَّ بِكَفَّيهِ أَماناً مِنَ الرَدى

He weeps for a corpse, oblivious of himself,

As if his hands could ward off destiny's blows.

وَما المَيِّتُ المَقبورُ في صَدرِ يَومِهِ

أَحَقُّ بِأَن يبكيه مِن مَيِّتٍ غَدا

Yet the buried dead, shut in the tomb of days,

Is less deserving of tears than one soon to die.