صَحِبَ الناسُ قَبلَنا ذا الزَمانا

وَعَناهُم مِن شَأنِهِ ما عَنانا

Men companied with this Age before our days,

And suffered from its ways the pains we suffer.

وَتَوَلَّوا بِغُصَّةٍ كُلُّهُم مِنـ

ـهُ وَإِن سَرَّ بَعضُهُم أَحيانا

They turned away, all choking on their grief,

Though for a time it might have pleased a few.

رُبَّما تُحسِنُ الصَنيعَ لَياليـ

ـهِ وَلَكِن تُكَدِّرُ الإِحسانا

Perchance the nights may offer kindly deeds,

Yet soon enough they muddy every grace.

وَكَأَنّا لَم يَرضَ فينا بِرَيبِ الـ

ـدَهرِ حَتّى أَعانَهُ مَن أَعانا

As though the trials of Time were not enough,

Till men stepped in to aid the hand of Fate.

كُلَّما أَنبَتَ الزَمانُ قَناةً

رَكَّبَ المَرءُ في القَناةِ سِنانا

Whenever Time puts forth a wooden shaft,

Man mounts upon the wood a deadly spear.

وَمُرادُ النُفوسِ أَصغَرُ مِن أَن

نَتَعادى فيهِ وَأَن نَتَفانى

The goals of souls are smaller than they seem,

To warrant such destruction and such feud.

غَيرَ أَنَّ الفَتى يُلاقي المَنايا

كالِحاتٍ وَلا يُلاقي الهَوانا

Yet noble youth would rather meet with death,

Though grim of face, than meet with base disgrace.

وَلَوَ أَنَّ الحَياةَ تَبقى لِحَيٍّ

لَعَدَدنا أَضَلَّنا الشُجعانا

And were this life to last for living men,

We’d count the brave the most misled of all.

وَإِذا لَم يَكُن مِنَ المَوتِ بُدٌّ

فَمِنَ العَجزِ أَن تَكونَ جَبانا

But since from death there is no fleeing away,

’Tis weakness to be found a coward then.

كُلُّ ما لَم يَكُن مِنَ الصَعبِ في الأَن

فُسِ سَهلٌ فيها إِذا هُوَ كانا

All things that seemed too hard for souls to bear,

Grow easy in the soul when they arrive.