اللَيلُ شَيَّبَ وَالنَهارُ كِلاهُما

اللَيلُ شَيَّبَ وَالنَهارُ كِلاهُما

رَأسي بِكَثرَةِ ما تَدورُ رَحاهُما

رَأسي بِكَثرَةِ ما تَدورُ رَحاهُما

Night and day have both grayed

The night grew gray and the day, too, grew old,

my head through the frequent turning of their millstone.

My head spins from their constant round and roll.

يَتَناهَبانِ لُحومَنا وَدِماءَنا

يَتَناهَبانِ لُحومَنا وَدِماءَنا

وَنُفوسَنا جَهراً وَنَحنُ نَراهُما

وَنُفوسَنا جَهراً وَنَحنُ نَراهُما

They plunder our flesh and our blood,

They gnaw our flesh and blood and soul outright,

and our souls, openly, while we watch them.

Though we watch helpless as they take their toll.

الشَيبُ إِحدى الميتَتَينِ تَقَدَّمَت

الشَيبُ إِحدى الميتَتَينِ تَقَدَّمَت

إِحداهُما وَتَأَخَّرَت إِحداهُما

إِحداهُما وَتَأَخَّرَت إِحداهُما

Gray hair is one of the two deaths; first came

Of death's two messengers, gray hair came first,

one of them, while the other came later.

One followed close, the other was dispersed.

فَكَأَنَّ مَن نَزَلَت بِهِ أولاهُما

فَكَأَنَّ مَن نَزَلَت بِهِ أولاهُما

يَوماً فَقَد نَزَلَت بِهِ أُخراهُما

يَوماً فَقَد نَزَلَت بِهِ أُخراهُما

So it is as though anyone struck by the first of them

On whom the first descends in early years,

one day has already been struck by the other.

Receives the second messenger diverse.