لَقَد كانَ ظَنّي يا اِبنَ سَعدٍ سَعادَةً

لَقَد كانَ ظَنّي يا اِبنَ سَعدٍ سَعادَةً

وَما الظَنُّ إِلّا مُخطِئٌ وَمُصيبُ

وَما الظَنُّ إِلّا مُخطِئٌ وَمُصيبُ

Indeed I had hoped, O Ibn Sa'd, for good fortune.

Indeed I thought, O Ibn Sa'd, it would bring me joy,

But expectations may be wrong or right.

Yet supposition is sometimes wrong and sometimes right.

تَرَكتُ عِيالي لافَواكِهَ عِندَهُم

تَرَكتُ عِيالي لافَواكِهَ عِندَهُم

وَعِندَ اِبنِ سَعدٍ سُكَّرٌ وَزَبيبُ

وَعِندَ اِبنِ سَعدٍ سُكَّرٌ وَزَبيبُ

I left my family with no fruit,

I left my family with no fruit while with them,

while Ibn Sa'd has sugar and raisins.

Yet with Ibn Sa'd there is sugar and raisins in sight.

تُحَنّى العِظامُ الراجِفاتُ مِنَ البِلى

تُحَنّى العِظامُ الراجِفاتُ مِنَ البِلى

وَلَيسَ لِداءِ الرُكبَتَينِ طَبيبُ

وَلَيسَ لِداءِ الرُكبَتَينِ طَبيبُ

My trembling bones are bowed with age,

My bones that shake and tremble with decrepitude,

and there is no physician for the ailment of my knees.

And for the ailment of my knees there is no respite.

كَأَنَّ النِساءَ الآسِراتِ حَنَينَني

كَأَنَّ النِساءَ الآسِراتِ حَنَينَني

عَريشاً فَمَشيِي في الرِجالِ دَبيبُ

عَريشاً فَمَشيِي في الرِجالِ دَبيبُ

As though the women who bind had bent me

It seems the enchanting women have bent me over,

into a shelter of branches; my gait among men is a crawl.

So I walk amongst men all hunched up and upright.

مَنَعتَ عَطائي يا اِبنَ سَعدٍ وَإِنَّما

مَنَعتَ عَطائي يا اِبنَ سَعدٍ وَإِنَّما

سَبَقتَ إِلَيَّ المَوتَ وَهُوَ قَريبُ

سَبَقتَ إِلَيَّ المَوتَ وَهُوَ قَريبُ

You withheld my stipend, O Ibn Sa'd; you have merely

You refused me your bounty, O Ibn Sa'd, though soon

outstripped death in reaching me, and it is near.

Death will come to me and it is ever so near in sight.

فَإِن تَرجِعوا رِزقي إِلَيَّ فَإِنَّهُ

فَإِن تَرجِعوا رِزقي إِلَيَّ فَإِنَّهُ

مَتاعُ لَيالٍ وَالحَياةُ كَذوبُ

مَتاعُ لَيالٍ وَالحَياةُ كَذوبُ

So if you restore my sustenance to me, it is

So if you give me back my sustenance, it is just

a few nights' enjoyment, and life is deceitful.

Provision for nights, and life itself is a blight.