أَلا إِنَّما الدُنيا مَتاعٌ غُرورٍ

أَلا إِنَّما الدُنيا مَتاعٌ غُرورٍ

وَدارُ صُعودٍ مَرَّةٍ وَحُدورِ

وَدارُ صُعودٍ مَرَّةٍ وَحُدورِ

Behold, this world is but deceptive enjoyment,

Alas! Verily this world is but a fleeting delight,

And an abode of ascent one moment and descent the next.

A house of ups and downs, of woe and might.

كَأَنّي بِيَومٍ ما أَخَذتُ تَأَهُّباً

كَأَنّي بِيَومٍ ما أَخَذتُ تَأَهُّباً

لَهُ في رَواحي عاجِلاً وَبُكوري

لَهُ في رَواحي عاجِلاً وَبُكوري

I seem to behold a day—I have made no preparation

As though I see the day I departed life,

For it, in my hurried evening and early-morning journeys.

Bidding farewell with haste at dawn’s first light.

كَفى عِبرَةً أَنَّ الحَوادِثَ لَم تَزَل

كَفى عِبرَةً أَنَّ الحَوادِثَ لَم تَزَل

تُصَيِّرُ أَهلَ المُلكِ أَهلَ قُبورِ

تُصَيِّرُ أَهلَ المُلكِ أَهلَ قُبورِ

It is lesson enough that calamities have never ceased

Sufficient is the moral that events persist

To turn holders of royal power into dwellers in graves.

To turn the kings of rule to graves outright.

خَليلَيَّ كَم مِن مَيِّتٍ قَد حَضَرتُهُ

خَليلَيَّ كَم مِن مَيِّتٍ قَد حَضَرتُهُ

وَلَكِنَّني لَم أَنتَفِع بِحُضوري

وَلَكِنَّني لَم أَنتَفِع بِحُضوري

My two friends, how many a dead man I have attended!

My friend, how many dead have I attended,

Yet I gained nothing from being there.

Yet my presence did not benefit their plight.

وَمَن لَم يَزِدهُ السِنُّ ما عاشَ عِبرَةً

وَمَن لَم يَزِدهُ السِنُّ ما عاشَ عِبرَةً

فَذاكَ الَّذي لا يَستَنيرُ بِنورِ

فَذاكَ الَّذي لا يَستَنيرُ بِنورِ

And whoever gains no lesson from age throughout his life

He who is not made wiser by his years,

Is the one whom no light enlightens.

Will not be enlightened by wisdom’s light.

أَصَبتُ مِنَ الأَيامِ لينَ أَعِنَّةٍ

أَصَبتُ مِنَ الأَيامِ لينَ أَعِنَّةٍ

فَأَجرَيتُها رَكضاً وَلينَ ظُهورِ

فَأَجرَيتُها رَكضاً وَلينَ ظُهورِ

I found the days had supple reins,

I endured days of ease and days suppressed,

So I set them galloping—their backs were supple too.

Galloping through both with steadfast might.

مَتى دامَ في الدُنيا سُرورٌ لِأَهلِها

مَتى دامَ في الدُنيا سُرورٌ لِأَهلِها

فَأَصبَحَ مِنها واثِقاً بِسُرورِ

فَأَصبَحَ مِنها واثِقاً بِسُرورِ

When has joy in this world ever lasted for its people,

Whenever joy persists for worldly men,

So that anyone might feel assured of joy from it?

Morning dispels it, erasing delight.