طالَما اِحلَولى مَعاشي وَطابا
طالَما سَحَّبتُ خَلفي الثِيابا
For long my living was bliss and joy,
For long I dragged robes behind me.
طالَما طاوَعتُ جَهلي وَلَهوي
طالَما نازَعتُ صَحبي الشَرابا
For long I obeyed my ignorance and lust,
For long with my friends I was given to wine.
طالَما كُنتُ أُحِبُّ التَصابي
فَرَماني سَهمُهُ وَأَصابا
For long I loved diversion; then it cast me down, smitten.
For long have I built lofty palaces,
أَيُّها الباني قُصوراً طِوالاً
أَينَ تَبغي هَل تُريدُ السَحابا
Where do you seek? Do you wish for the clouds?
You are but in the valley of death.
إِنَّما أَنتَ بِوادي المَنايا
إِن رَماكَ المَوتُ فيهِ أَصابا
If death smites you there, it has struck home.
O builder of edifices for the hours to lay low,
أَيُّها الباني لِهَدمِ اللَيالي
إِبنِ ما شِئتَ سَتَلقى خَرابا
Build what you will; all shall encounter decay.
Did you feel secure against death who refuses
أَأَمِنتَ المَوتَ وَالمَوتُ يَأبى
بِكَ وَالأَيّامُ إِلّا انقِلابا
To allow you be?—and against Time with its changes?
Do you see this world with the eye of insight?
هَل تَرى الدُنيا بِعَينَي بَصيرٍ
إِنَّما الدُنيا تُحاكي السَرابا
The world is but a mirage of the desert.
The world is but a covering that, once lifted, disappears.
إِنَّما الدُنيا كَفَيءٍ تَوَلّى
أَو كَما عايَنتَ فيهِ الضَبابا
Or it is like the errors you note in a fog.
The flame of death among the people glows hot,
نارُ هَذا المَوتِ في الناسِ طُرّاً
كُلَّ يَومٍ قَد تَزيدُ التِهابا
Each day increasing the heat of its blaze.
The world is but trial and deceit,
إِنَّما الدُنيا بَلاءٌ وَكَدٌّ
وَاكتِئابٌ قَد يَسوقُ اِكتِئابا
Sorrow and gloom leading to sorrow again.
No sage continued to relish living in it
ما استَطابَ العَيشَ فيها حَليمٌ
لا وَلا دامَ لَهُ ما اِستَطابا
Unless he had in it what he relished.
O man refusing to leave frivolity and youth in it,
أَيُّها المَرءُ الَّذي قَد أَبى أَن
يَهجُرَ اللَهوَ بِها وَالشَبابا
And building lofty mansions and edifices,
And structures above structures piled high!
وَبَنى فيها قُصوراً وَدوراً
وَبَنى بَعدَ القِبابِ القِبابا
And finding ugly things to be beautiful,
Choosing for sin only to commit it!
وَرَأى كُلَّ قَبيحٍ جَميلاً
وَأَبى لِلغَيِّ إِلّا ارتِكابا
You are in a house with death in it,
Subduing even the necks of kings.
أَنتَ في دارٍ تَرى المَوتَ فيها
مُستَشيطاً قَد أَذَلَّ الرِقابا
The world at the end offers only loss
To all who live, except for death.
أَبَتِ الدُنيا عَلى كُلِّ حَيٍّ
آخِرَ الأَيّامِ إِلّا ذَهابا
Death only negates life; just as old age
Negates the youth that went before.
إِنَّما تَنفي الحَياةَ المَنايا
مِثلَما يَنفي المَشيبُ الشَبابا
I see the world bringing harm and woe
To all who live in it, and them it scorches.
ما أَرى الدُنيا عَلى كُلِّ حَيٍّ
نالَها إِلّا أَذىً وَعَذابا
While man is strong and well, his day
Summons him and he answers.
بَينَما الإِنسانُ حَيٌّ قَويٌّ
إِذ دَعاهُ يَومُهُ فَأَجابا
Yet death is a momentous thing;
It empties mansions and leaves them ruined.
غَيرَ أَنَّ المَوتَ شَيءٌ جَليلٌ
يَترُكُ الدورَ يَباباً خَرابا
What life in it, for those who live in it, lasted?
What life in it has not abated?
أَيُّ عَيشٍ دامَ فيها لِحَيٍّ
أَيُّ حَيٍّ ماتَ فيها فَآبا
What kingdom was there for a people before us,
That they did not ruin and snatch away?
أَيُّ مُلكٍ كانَ فيها لِقَومٍ
قَبلَنا لَم يُسلَبوهُ استِلابا
The herald of death cries out,
“Pack up and prepare your provisions!”
إِنَّما داعي المَنايا يُنادي
إِحمِلوا الزادَ وَشُدّوا الرِكابا
The Merciful made the lives of all creatures
Among themselves prey for each other.
جَعَلَ الرَحمَنُ بَينَ المَنايا
أَنفُسَ الخَلقِ جَميعاً نِهابا
Would that I knew! Will my tongue avail me
When I am asked and must make reply?
لَيتَ شِعري عَن لِساني أَيَقوى
يَومَ عَرضي أَن يَرُدَّ الجَوابا
Would that I knew if my hand will be given
My book, or if it be on my left!
لَيتَ شِعري بِيَمينِيَ أُعطى
أَم شِمالي عِندَ ذاكَ الكِتابا
Forgive the people! For I see them now
As though they were wolves, all but a few.
سامِحِ الناسَ فَإِنّي أَراهُم
أَصبَحوا إِلّا قَليلاً ذِئابا
Do good among them, do it abundantly,
Yet seek no reward from them for doing it.
أَفشِ مَعروفَكَ فيهِم وَأَكثِر
ثُمَّ لا تَبغِ عَلَيهِ ثَوابا
And when you fear poverty, then pray
To Him who grants gracious gifts abundantly.
وَسَلِ اللَهَ إِذا خِفتَ فَقراً
فَهوَ يُعطيكَ العَطايا الرِغابا
