تظنُّ خُطوبُ الدهرِ أني بكرِّها

أحاذِرُ حربَ الخطب وهي زبونُ

You think the turns of fate that I fear early

Will make me shun the perils of events, though fierce,

ولمْ تدْرِ أنَّ الماْءَ تُحميه نارهُ

ويُطْفئهُا بالطَّبعِ وهو سَخينُ

Yet know not that the flames themselves protect the stream,

And that its heat the very nature tempers down.