لَعَمري لَقَد أَنكَرتُ نَفسي وَرابَني

خَلائِقُ مِنها لَم تَكُن مِن شَمائِلي

By my life, I no longer recognize myself—and that troubles me;

traits have appeared in it that were never part of my nature:

مُطاوَعَتي مَن كُنتُ لَستُ أُطيعُهُ

وَإِنّي أَرى بَثّي عَنِ اللَهوِ شاغِلي

my yielding obedience to one I never used to obey,

and I find my sorrow keeping me from amusement.

وَبُدِّلَ رَأسي الشَيبَ بَعدَ سَوادِهِ

فَأَصبَحتُ ذا شُغلٍ وَأقصَر باطِلي

The blackness of my head has been exchanged for gray,

so I have become preoccupied, and my frivolity has dwindled.

وَأَصبَحتُ قَد أَعرَضنَ عَني وَسُؤنَني

وَأَخلَفَني عَهدُ الخَليلِ المُماطِلِ

Now they have turned away from me and caused me pain,

and the pledge of my ever-delaying beloved has failed me.

أَلا إِنَّ شَيبَ الرَأسِ لَيسَ بِآفَةٍ

تُضيرُكَ إِلّا في النِساءِ الجَواهِلِ

Behold: gray hair upon the head is no affliction

that can harm you—except among foolish women.