هَلّا وَأَنتَ بِماءِ وَجهِكَ تُشتَهى

رودَ الشَبابِ قَليلَ شَعرِ العارِضِ

With your handsome face you were desirable,

Why not then, when the bloom of your face was desired,

Until youth passed as the hair on your temple grayed.

In the lushness of youth, with cheeks scarcely touched by hair?

فَاليَومَ إِذ نَبَتَت بِوَجهِكَ لِحيَةٌ

ذَهَبَت بِمُلحِكَ مِلءُ كَفِّ القابِضِ

Now that a beard has grown on your face,

But today, now that a beard has sprouted upon your face,

Gone is the softness from the palm of your hand.

A handful’s length has stripped away your charm;

مِثلُ السُلافَةِ عادَ خَمرُ عَصيرِها

بَعدَ اللَذاذَةِ خَلَّ خَمرٍ حامِضِ

Like vinegar, the wine has turned sour

Like the choicest wine, whose pressed nectar turns,

After sweetness comes the tartness of fermented drink.

After its delight, into sour vinegar.