يَوَدُّ الفَتى أَنَّ الحَياةَ بَسيطَةٌ

وَأَنَّ شَقاءَ العَيشَ لَيسَ يَبيدُ

The young man wishes that life were simple,

And that the misery of living would cease.

كَذاكَ نَعامُ القَفرِ يَخشى مِنَ الرَدى

وَقوتاهُ مَروٌ بِالفَلا وَهَبيدُ

So too the ostrich of the desert fears adversity,

Its food bitter wormwood and chaff.

وَقَد يَخطِئُ الرَأيَ اِمرُؤٌِ وَهُوَ حازِمٌ

كَما اِختَلَّ في وَزنِ القَريضِ عَبيدُ

A prudent man may sometimes err in judgment,

As Labid erred in the metre of his ode.

مَضى الواقِفُ الكِنديُّ وَالسَقطُ غابِرٌ

وَصاحَت دِيارُ الحَيِّ أَينَ لَبيدُ

The soothsayer from Kindah has passed away and gloom prevails,

The dwellings of Hayy cry “Where is Labid?”

تَوَلّى اِبنُ حُجرٍ لا يَعودُ لِشَأنِهِ

وَطالَت لَيالٍ وَالمَعالِمُ بيدُ

The son of Hujr has turned away, never to resume his task,

And nights have grown long while the landmarks lie waste.