وَالشُحُّ غَريباً عِندَ أَنفُسِنا

بَلِ الغَريبُ وَإِن لَم يُرحَمِ الجودُ

Stinginess seems alien to our souls

Yet the stranger, if generosity be lacking, remains a stranger still

بَقَيتُ حَتّى كَسا الخَدَّينِ جَونُهُما

ثُمَّ اِستَحالَ وَمَسَّ الجِسمَ تَخديدُ

I waited till age had worn their cheeks

Then transformation came and their bodies felt decay