أَمّا الحَياةُ فَفَقرٌ لا غِنى مَعَهُ

وَالمَوتُ يُغني فَسُبحانَ الَّذي قَدَرا

Life is poverty, no wealth comes with it

And death brings wealth, glory to He who ordained them

لَو أَنصَفَ العَيشُ لَم تُذمَم صَحابَتَهُ

وَما غَدَرنا وَلَكِن عَيشُنا غَدَرا

If life were fair, its company would not be blamed

We were not betrayed, but life itself betrayed us

غُفرانَ رَبِّكَ هَل تَغدو مُؤَمِّلَةً

أَغفارُ شابَةَ أَن تُدعى بِها فُدُرا

Will your Lord's forgiveness continue to give hope?

Will Ghafir's forgiveness continue to be called Fudur?

أَم خُصَّ بِالأَمَلِ المَبسوطِ كُلُّ فَتىً

مِن آلِ حَوّاءَ يُنسي وِردُه الصَدَرا

Or is every young man of Eve's progeny

Endowed with outstretched hope that makes him forget?

يا صاحِ ما خُدِرَت رِجلي فَأَشكُوَها

وَلَم أَزَل وَالبَرايا نَشتَكي الخَدَرا

O companion, my legs have numbed, so I complain of them

Yet I have not stopped, while in the wilderness, complaining of numbness

لَيلاً مِنَ الغَيِّ لا أَنوارَ يُطلِعُها

فَالرَكبُ يَخبِطُ في ظَلمائِهِ الغَدَرا

A night of misguidance, no lights to illuminate it

So the caravan stumbles in its deceptive darkness

لا تَقرَبَن جَدَرِيّاً ما أَرَدتُ بِهِ

داءً يُرى بَل شَراباً مودَعاً جَدَرا

Do not come near my wall that I wanted

As an illness to be seen, but a drink stored in the wall

زُفَّت إِلى البَدرِ وَالدينارُ قيمَتُها

عِندَ السِباءِ وَكانَت تَسكُنُ المَدَرا

She was married off to a full moon, while her dowry

Was but a dinar, as she used to live in a ruin

وَالخَيرُ يَندُرُ تاراتٍ فَنَعرِفُهُ

وَلا يُقاسُ عَلى حَرفٍ إِذا نَدَرا

Goodness is rare like shooting stars, so we recognize it

And it is not measured by one instance if it is rare

وَكَم مَصائِبَ في الأَيّامِ فادِحَةٍ

لَولا الحِمامُ لَعُدَّت كُلُّها هَدَرا

How many grievous tribulations there are in days

Were it not for pigeons, they would all be devastated