الدَهرُ كَالرَبعِ لَم يَعلَم بِحالَتِهِ

الدَهرُ كَالرَبعِ لَم يَعلَم بِحالَتِهِ

هَل عِندَ ذي الدارِ مِن سُكّانِها خَبَرُ

هَل عِندَ ذي الدارِ مِن سُكّانِها خَبَرُ

Time is like a deserted dwelling; it has not known its condition—

Time is like a quarter, its state unknown

does the householder have any news of its inhabitants?

Does the owner of the house have news of its dwellers?

وَسَوفَ يَقدُمُ حَتّى يَستَسِرَّ بِهِ

وَسَوفَ يَقدُمُ حَتّى يَستَسِرَّ بِهِ

سَنا النَهارِ وَيُفني شَرخَهُ الكِبَرُ

سَنا النَهارِ وَيُفني شَرخَهُ الكِبَرُ

And it will advance until, through it, there is concealed

It will continue to advance until it hides within it

the radiance of day, and old age consumes its youthful prime.

The evil of daylight and old age destroys it