ما كُلُّ ما تَشتَهي يَكونُ

ما كُلُّ ما تَشتَهي يَكونُ

وَالدَهرُ تَصريفُهُ فُنونُ

وَالدَهرُ تَصريفُهُ فُنونُ

Not everything you desire comes to be.

Not all that you desire comes to pass

And time's turnings take many forms.

And time's transformations are manifold

قَد يَعرِضُ الحَتفُ في حِلابٍ

قَد يَعرِضُ الحَتفُ في حِلابٍ

دَرَّت بِهِ اللَقحَةُ اللَبونُ

دَرَّت بِهِ اللَقحَةُ اللَبونُ

Death may lie in milk

Misfortune may strike in serene times

Yielded abundantly by a milk-giving she-camel.

As pearl droplets flow into sands

الصَبرُ أَنجى مَطيِّ عَزمٍ

الصَبرُ أَنجى مَطيِّ عَزمٍ

يُطوى بِهِ السَهلُ وَالحُزونُ

يُطوى بِهِ السَهلُ وَالحُزونُ

Patience is the safest of resolve's mounts;

Patience gives strength to resolve’s steed

On it, level ground and rugged land are crossed.

To traverse plains and rugged lands

وَالسَعيُ شَيءٌ لَهُ انقِلابٌ

وَالسَعيُ شَيءٌ لَهُ انقِلابٌ

فَمِنهُ فَوقٌ وَمِنهُ دونُ

فَمِنهُ فَوقٌ وَمِنهُ دونُ

And striving is subject to reversal:

Toil is fickle in its reversals

Some of it leads upward, and some downward.

Bringing ascent and decline in turns

وَرُبَّما لانَ مَن تُعاصي

وَرُبَّما لانَ مَن تُعاصي

وَرُبَّما عَزَّ مَن يَهونُ

وَرُبَّما عَزَّ مَن يَهونُ

And sometimes one you defy softens;

You may triumph o’er one who defies

And sometimes one who is lowly grows mighty.

Or one held mighty may be spurned

وَرُبَّ رَهنٍ بِبَيتِ هَجرٍ

وَرُبَّ رَهنٍ بِبَيتِ هَجرٍ

فيمِثلِهِ تَغلَقُ الرُهونُ

فيمِثلِهِ تَغلَقُ الرُهونُ

And many a pledge lies in a house of abandonment;

Many a hostage lies confined

In such a place, pledges are forfeited.

While like pledges are returned

لَم أَرَ شَيئاً جَرى بِبَينٍ

لَم أَرَ شَيئاً جَرى بِبَينٍ

يَقطَعُ ما تَقطَعُ المَنونُ

يَقطَعُ ما تَقطَعُ المَنونُ

I have never seen anything that brings parting

Naught have I seen run such a course

Sever what death severs.

As cutoff as death’s blade discerns

ما أَيسَرَ المُكثَ في مَحَلٍّ

ما أَيسَرَ المُكثَ في مَحَلٍّ

مالَ إِلَيهِ بِنا الرُكونُ

مالَ إِلَيهِ بِنا الرُكونُ

How easy it is to linger in a place

How facile is abidance in a place

To which attachment has drawn us.

To which our stillness slowly yearns

لا يَأمَنَنَّ اِمرُؤٌ هَواهُ

لا يَأمَنَنَّ اِمرُؤٌ هَواهُ

فَإِنَّ بَعضَ الهَوى جُنونُ

فَإِنَّ بَعضَ الهَوى جُنونُ

Let no man ever trust his desire;

Let no man feel too safe from passion

For some desire is madness.

For some passions are madness in turns

وَكُلُّ حينٍ يَخونُ قَوماً

وَكُلُّ حينٍ يَخونُ قَوماً

أَيُّ الأَحايِينِ لا يَخونُ

أَيُّ الأَحايِينِ لا يَخونُ

And every age betrays a people;

Every epoch betrays some people

Which age does not betray?

What eras do not betray in their turns?

إِذا اعتَرى الحَينُ أَهلَ مُلكٍ

إِذا اعتَرى الحَينُ أَهلَ مُلكٍ

خَلَت لَهُ مِنهُمُ الحُصونُ

خَلَت لَهُ مِنهُمُ الحُصونُ

When doom overtakes those who hold power,

When fortune assails a landed clan

The fortresses stand empty of them, left to it.

Their forts stand against them unspurned

كَرُّ الجَديدَينِ حَيثُ كانا

كَرُّ الجَديدَينِ حَيثُ كانا

مِمّا تَفانَت بِهِ القُرونُ

مِمّا تَفانَت بِهِ القُرونُ

The recurrence of ever-new night and day, wherever they are,

Blame the new over what is past

Is among the things by which generations have perished.

From what has claimed ages in their turns

وَلِلبِلى فيهِمُ دَبيبٌ

وَلِلبِلى فيهِمُ دَبيبٌ

كَأَنَّ تَحريكَهُ سُكونُ

كَأَنَّ تَحريكَهُ سُكونُ

And decay creeps within them,

And on them decay makes its way

As though its movement were stillness.

As if motion itself there sojourns

كَيفَ رَضينا بِضيقِ دارٍ

كَيفَ رَضينا بِضيقِ دارٍ

أَم كَيفَ قَرَّت بِها العُيونُ

أَم كَيفَ قَرَّت بِها العُيونُ

How have we been content with a cramped dwelling,

How did we consent to narrow quarters

Or how have our eyes found comfort in it?

Or how did eyes therein find rests?

تَكَنَّفَتنا الهُمومُ مِنها

تَكَنَّفَتنا الهُمومُ مِنها

فَهُنَّ فيهَ لَنا سُجونُ

فَهُنَّ فيهَ لَنا سُجونُ

Cares from it have hemmed us in;

Worries encircled us therein

So within it they are prisons for us.

So they are our prisons in those nests

وَلَيسَ يَجري بِنا زَمانٌ

وَلَيسَ يَجري بِنا زَمانٌ

إِلّا لَهُ كَلكَلٌ طَحونُ

إِلّا لَهُ كَلكَلٌ طَحونُ

And no stretch of time carries us along

No era flows for us

Without a breast that grinds us down.

Save bearing mills grinding unrests

وَالمَرءُ ما عاشا لَيسَ يَخلو

وَالمَرءُ ما عاشا لَيسَ يَخلو

مِن حادِثٍ كانَ أَو يَكونُ

مِن حادِثٍ كانَ أَو يَكونُ

And a man, as long as he lives, is never free

One lives not without some incident

From calamity, past or yet to come.

Occurring or looming as fortune’s bequests