هيضَ عَظمي الغُداةَ إِذ صِرتُ فيهِ

إِنَّ عَظمي قَد كانَ غَيرَ مَهيضِ

My bones were worn out when morning came

Though my bones were once unwearied

وَلَقَد كُنتُ أَنطِقُ الشِّعرَ دَهراً

ثُمَّ حالَ الجَريضُ دونَ القَريضِ

I did compose poetry many ages long

But sickness has hindered inspiration