تَكَلَّفَ مَدحُ الشَيبِ عِندي مُعَمِّرٌ

تَكَلَّفَ مَدحُ الشَيبِ عِندي مُعَمِّرٌ

وَهَل يَمدَحَنَّ الشَيبَ إِلّا تَكَلُّفا

وَهَل يَمدَحَنَّ الشَيبَ إِلّا تَكَلُّفا

Muʿammar strained to praise gray hair in my presence.

The praise of old age was pretentious for me, an old man,

And does anyone praise gray hair except by forcing himself?

And does anyone praise old age except out of pretense?

فَقُلتُ اِنظُرَنّي أَوَّلاً مِنهُ مُؤلِماً

فَقُلتُ اِنظُرَنّي أَوَّلاً مِنهُ مُؤلِماً

لِقَلبِ فَتى أَو آخِراً مِنهُ مُتلَفا

لِقَلبِ فَتى أَو آخِراً مِنهُ مُتلَفا

So I said, 'Consider for me its onset, painful

So I said, “Look at it hurting the heart of a young man first,

to a young man's heart, or its ending, fatal.'

Or look at it in the end, unraveling him.”

تَصَرَّمَ مِن عُمري ثَلاثونَ حُجَّةً

تَصَرَّمَ مِن عُمري ثَلاثونَ حُجَّةً

لَبِستُ بِها ثَوبَ الشَبابِ مُطَرِفا

لَبِستُ بِها ثَوبَ الشَبابِ مُطَرِفا

Thirty years of my life have passed away,

Thirty pilgrimages of my life grew old.

during which I wore youth's robe, a richly bordered mantle.

I wore with them the garb of youth, magnificent.

شَبابٌ أَطارَ الوَجدَ عَنّي غِيابُهُ

شَبابٌ أَطارَ الوَجدَ عَنّي غِيابُهُ

وَصَرفُ زَمانٍ لَم أَجِد عَنهُ مَصرِفا

وَصَرفُ زَمانٍ لَم أَجِد عَنهُ مَصرِفا

Youth—its absence drove passion from me,

A youth whose absence took away my passion,

as did time's vicissitudes, from which I found no escape.

And the passing of a time for which I found no averter.

أَقَمتُ بِهِ صَدرَ السُرورِ فَلَم يَزَل

أَقَمتُ بِهِ صَدرَ السُرورِ فَلَم يَزَل

بِهِ الشَيبُ حَتّى رَدَّهُ مُتَحَنِّفا

بِهِ الشَيبُ حَتّى رَدَّهُ مُتَحَنِّفا

With it I set joy's breast upright; yet still

With it I set up in my heart the pillar of happiness,

gray hair worked upon it until it bent it awry.

Until old age persistently turned it away.

فَطِر بِجَناحِ اللَهوِ في زَمَنِ الصِبا

فَطِر بِجَناحِ اللَهوِ في زَمَنِ الصِبا

فَأَخلِق بِهِ إِن شِئتَ أَن يَتَحَيَّفا

فَأَخلِق بِهِ إِن شِئتَ أَن يَتَحَيَّفا

So fly on pleasure's wing in the season of youth,

So roam freely in the era of youth,

for how likely it is, if you will, to wear away!

And if you wish, make of it a refined nature.

تَناوَلَ وَخطُ الشَيبِ أَطرافَ عارِضي

تَناوَلَ وَخطُ الشَيبِ أَطرافَ عارِضي

فَأَصبَحَ لَيلاً بِالصَباحِ مُشَنَّفا

فَأَصبَحَ لَيلاً بِالصَباحِ مُشَنَّفا

A sprinkling of gray reached the edges of my cheek,

And the line of old age grabbed the edges of my cheek,

and it became a night with dawn for earrings.

So it woke up in the morning, cloven.