وَالشُحُّ غَريباً عِندَ أَنفُسِنا

وَالشُحُّ غَريباً عِندَ أَنفُسِنا

بَلِ الغَريبُ وَإِن لَم يُرحَمِ الجودُ

بَلِ الغَريبُ وَإِن لَم يُرحَمِ الجودُ

And miserliness is a stranger to our souls;

Stinginess seems alien to our souls

Rather, generosity is the stranger, though it goes unpitied.

Yet the stranger, if generosity be lacking, remains a stranger still

بَقَيتُ حَتّى كَسا الخَدَّينِ جَونُهُما

بَقَيتُ حَتّى كَسا الخَدَّينِ جَونُهُما

ثُمَّ اِستَحالَ وَمَسَّ الجِسمَ تَخديدُ

ثُمَّ اِستَحالَ وَمَسَّ الجِسمَ تَخديدُ

I lived on until their blackness clothed both cheeks;

I waited till age had worn their cheeks

Then it changed, and wrinkling touched the body.

Then transformation came and their bodies felt decay