أَكُلُّ وَميضٍ بارِقَةٍ كَذوبُ
أَما في الدَهرِ شَيءٌ لا يَريبُ
Is every gleam of lightning deceptive?
Is there nothing in Time that gives no cause for doubt?
أَبى لي أَن أَقولَ الهَجرَ قَدرٌ
بَعيدٌ أَن تُجاوِرَهُ العُيوبُ
A dignity forbids me to utter abusive words—
too lofty for faults to dwell beside it.
تَشابَهَت الطِباعُ فَلا دَنىءٌ
يَحِنُّ إِلى الثَناءِ وَلا حَسيبُ
All natures have grown alike: no lowly man
yearns for praise, nor any man of noble birth.
وَشاعَ البُخلُ في الأَشياءِ حَتّى
يَكادَ يَشُحُّ بِالريحِ الهبوبُ
Miserliness has spread through all things, until
even the blowing wind all but begrudges its breath.
فَكَيفَ أَخُصُّ بِاِسمِ العَيبِ شَيئاً
وَأَكثَرُ ما تُشاهِدُهُ معيبُ
How, then, can I single out anything as “flawed,”
when most of what you behold is itself flawed?
Sol 5.6