1. تَلومُ وَقَد لاحَتْ طوالعُ شَيبتي

    وما كنتُ منها قبل ذاك مُفنَّدا

    She reproaches me now that the first signs of my gray hair have appeared,

    though before that she had never judged me foolish.

  2. فَحسبُك مِن لَومي وإلّا فَبعضهُ

    فَما اِبيضّ إلّا بَعضُ ما كان أسودا

    Enough of blaming me—or at least hold back some of it;

    for only some of what was black has turned white.

  3. وَلا تُلزميني اليوم عَيباً بصبغةٍ

    سَتكتسبيها إِنْ بقيتِ لها غدا

    And do not fault me today for a hue

    you will acquire tomorrow, if you live to see it.

  4. وَلَو خلّدتْ لي خالةٌ معْ تولّع ال

    ليالي بأحوالي لكنتُ المخلّدا

    And were one state of mine made everlasting [reading uncertain], despite the obsession of the

    nights with my circumstances, I would be the immortal one.

  5. ولو لم أشِبْ أو تَنتقِصْنِيَ مُدّةٌ

    لكنتُ على الأيّامِ نَسراً وفرقدا

    And if I neither grayed nor were diminished by time,

    I would be, through the ages, Nasr and Farqad.

  6. وإنّ المشيبَ فِدْيَةٌ من صغيرةٍ

    أبِيت بها صِفْراً من النّاسِ مفردا

    And gray hair is a ransom from a little [grave],

    where I spend the night, bereft of people, alone.

  7. أُوَسّدُ بِالصُّفّاحِ لا مِنْ كرامةٍ

    وإنّي غنِيٌّ وَسْطَها أن أُوَسّدا

    I am pillowed on stone slabs, not out of honor,

    though amid them I have no need to be pillowed.

  8. فلا تنفرِي يا نفسُ يوماً من الرّدى

    فَما أَنتِ إلّا في طَريقٍ منَ الرّدى

    So do not recoil, O my soul, one day from death;

    for you are only on a path of death.