لاَ تَسْألُونِي مَا الزَّمَانُ فَإنَّه

أخَذَتْ فُصول بَنَانِهِ بِمَجَامِعِي

Do not ask me what time it is, for it

Has taken the seasons of my being in its grasp

فَخَرِيفُ عَقْلِي مِنْ مَصِيفِ حُشَاشَتِي

وَرَبِيعُ قَلْبِي مِنْ شِتَاءِ مَدَامِعِي

So my mind's autumn is from my youth's summer

And my heart's spring is from my tear's winter