غَدَوتُ عَلى نَفسي أُثَرِّبُ جاهِداً

وَأَمثالَها لامَ اللَبيبُ المُثَرِّبُ

I roamed my soul, admonishing it insistently,

And the likes of it the sensible one would admonish.

إِذا كانَ جِسمِيَ مِن تُرابٍ مَآلَهُ

إِلَيهِ فَما حَظّي بِأَنِّيَ مُترِبُ

If my body's final home is but dust,

What luck in grooming it, I implore and wish!

وَما زالَتِ الدُنيا بِأَصنافِ أَلسُنٍ

تُبَيِّنُ عَن غَيرِ الجَميلِ وَتُعرِبُ

And the world with its motley tongues never ceased,

Revealing the unsightly and expressing it unleashed.

إِذا أَغرَبَت يَوماً بِرُزءٍ عَلى الفَتى

فَلَيسَت عَلى نَفسي بِما حُمَّ تُغرِبُ

If it once aggrieved me with loss and sorrow,

It's no fault of mine what adversity has cherished.

وَجَرَّبتُها أُمَّ الوَليدِ لِطامِعٍ

وَيَيئِسُ مِن أُمِّ الوَليدِ المُجَرِّبُ

I tried it, mother of Al-Walid, for the ambitious one,

Yet from mother of Al-Walid the trier despairs.

يَحِقُّ لِمَن يَهوى الحَياةَ بُكاؤُهُ

إِذا لاحَ قُرنُ الشَمسِ أَو حينَ تَغرُبُ

For one who loves life, crying is a rightful deed,

When the sun's horn emerges or at sunset fades.

وَما نَفَسٌ إِلّا يُباعِدُ مَولِداً

وَيُدني المَنايا لِلنُفوسِ فَتَقرُبُ

Each soul distances a birth and draws near its death,

As lives approach their setting, it comes nearer, out of breath.

فَهَل لِسُهَيلٍ في مَعَدِّكَ ناصِرٌ

إِذا أَسلَمَتهُ لِلحَوادِثِ يَعرُبُ

Does Suhayl own in your orbit a helper and aide,

When events have left it bewildered and dazed?

وَأَهدى إِلى نهجِ الهُدى مِن مَعاشِرٍ

نَواضِحُ تَسنو أَو عَوامِلُ تَكرُبُ

It guided to the path of guidance throngs

Of brilliant rising dawns or prides that blazed.

أَلا تَفرَقُ الأَحياءُ مِمّا بَدا لَها

وَقَد عَمَّها بِالفَجرِ أَزرَقُ مُغرَبُ

Do not the living differ in what they initiated?

Though the blue dusk has blanketed all unified.

وَشَفَّ بَقاءٌ صِرتُ مِن سوءِ فِعلِهِ

أَهَشُّ إِلى المَوتِ الزُؤامِ وَأَطرَبُ

Remaining lifetime whose misdeeds made me

Hasten unto bitter death, distraught and terrified.

فَشِم صارِماً وَارِكُز قَناةً فَلِلردى

يَدُ هِيَ أَولى بِالحِمامِ وَأَدرَبُ

Wield your sword and steady your spear, for havoc

Is more worthy of your hand and better wielded.

أَفَضُّ لِهاماتٍ وَأَرمى بِأَسهُمٍ

وَأَطعَنُ في قَلبِ الخَميسِ وَأَضرَبُ

I pour forth for yearnings and shoot with arrows,

And stab in the heart of (poetic) meter fivefold.

أَرى مُطعِمَ الرَمسِ اللِهَمَّ خَليلَهُ

سَيَأكُلُ مِن بَعدِ الخَليلِ وَيَشرَبُ

I see the feeder of poetic meter, may God be his friend,

Will eat after the friend and drink sublime.