لِلناسِ في السَبقِ بَعدَ اليَومِ مِضمارُ

وَالمُنتَهى جَنَّةٌ لا بُدَّ أَو نارُ

People have a racecourse to run after life,

And the finish line is either Heaven or Hell.

المَوتُ حَقٌّ وَلَكِن لَم أَزَل مَرِحاً

كَأَنَّ مَعرِفَتي بِالمَوتِ إِنكارُ

Death is true, yet I remain playful,

As if denying death is my way.

إِنّي لَأَعمُرُ داراً ما لِساكِنِها

أَهلٌ وَلا وَلَدٌ يَبقى وَلا جارُ

I build a house with no family or neighbor to inhabit it.

How miserable is the home of one disobeying the Creator!

فَبِئسَتِ الدارُ لِلعاصي لِخالِقِهِ

وَهيَ لِمَن يَتَّقيهِ نِعمَتِ الدارُ

Yet for the God-fearing, it is a blessed home.