بِبابِ مُربَيطَرٍ عايَنتُ ذا عِظَةٍ

هُوَ الجَمادُ وَلَكِن صمتهُ يَعِظُ

At the door of a ruined abode I spied a preacher

It was inanimate, yet its silence preached

يَقولُ هذي بِلادي قَد فَتَحتُ بِها

كَفِّي فَهَل أَنتَ يا مَغرورُ مُتَّعِظُ

Saying, "This was my abode; in it I flourished.”

“Enough! Will you not take heed, O vainglorious man?”

هَذا مَقامِيَ وَالأَعصارُ ماضِيَةٌ

وَالغَيُّ لِلنّاسِ مَحبوبٌ إِذا وُعِظوا

“This was my place, and the ages have passed away.”

“Vain pleasures tempt men, though they are exhorted.”

فَكَم زَجَرتُ وَلَكِن أَينَ مُزدَجِرٌ

عَمّا أُحَذِّرُهُ وَأَينَ مُتَّعِظُ

“How often have I warned, but where is a warner

Heeding my warning? Where is a man taking heed?”