طالَ صَومي وَلَستُ أَرفَعُ سَومي

وَوُفودي عَلى المَنِيَّةِ فِطرُ

My fast has been long, yet I do not cease my fast

And my provision for death is to break fast

إيُّها الشَيبُ لا يَريبُكَ مِن كَف

في مِقَصٌّ وَلا يُواريكَ خِطرُ

O gray hair, do not doubt that you are a shield

A razor cannot shave you, nor can danger threaten you

إِن نَهَيتَ النَفسَ اللَجوجَ عَنِ الإِث

مِ وَطابَت فَإِنَّما أَنتَ عِطرُ

If you forbid the obstinate self from sin

And it becomes good, you are but a sweet scent

لُحتَ مِثلَ الكافورِ كَفَّرَ ذَنباً

فَلتُبَرِّد إِن كانَ أُغلِيَ قِطرُ

You have become like camphor, atoning for sins

So cool down, even if the cooking pot was heated