ما لِذا المَوتِ لا يَزالُ مُخيفاً
كُلَّ يَومٍ يَنالُ مِنّا شَريفاً
Why does death still frighten us
Each day it takes from us the noblest
مولَعاً بِالسَراةِ مِنّا فَما يَأ
خُذُ إِلّا المُهَذَّبَ الغِطريفا
Passionate for the elite among us, it only takes
The most refined and accomplished
فَلَوَ أَنَّ المَنونَ تَعدِلُ فينا
فَتَنالُ الشَريفَ وَالمَشروفا
If death were just with us
Taking the elite and the common
كانَ في الحَقِّ أَن يَعودَ لَنا المَو
تُ وَأَن لا نَسومُهُ تَسويفا
It would be right for death
To return to us and cease prolonging
أَيُّها المَوتُ لَو تَجافَيتَ عَن صَخ
رٍ لَأَلفَيتَهُ نَقِيّاً عَفيفا
Oh death, if you were to avoid the aged
You would find him pure and chaste
عاشَ خَمسينَ حِجَّةً يُنكِرُ المُن
كَرَ فينا وَيَبذُلُ المَعروفا
Having lived fifty pilgrimages, rejecting the rejected among us
And giving freely to others
رَحمَةُ اللَهِ وَالسَلامُ عَلَيهِ
وَسَقى قَبرَهُ الرَبيعُ خَريفا
May God's mercy and peace be upon him
And may the spring rain his grave in autumn
