لِلشَّيبِ أَرى حَبلَ هَواها اِنقضبا

يا وَيليَ إِذا عادَ رضاها غَضَبا

I see the rope of her passion has snapped

Alas if her contentment turns to wrath

كالتُربِ تُهنيني لِريحٍ رَكَدَت

ناري اِنطفأت وَماءُ وَجهي نَضَبا

Like dust she humiliates me when the wind dies down

My fire is extinguished and the water of my face is dried up