زَمانٌ بارَتِ الأُدَباءُ فيهِ

زَمانٌ بارَتِ الأُدَباءُ فيهِ

فَلَيسَ لَهُم بِمَوسِمِهِ نَفاقُ

فَلَيسَ لَهُم بِمَوسِمِهِ نَفاقُ

An age in which men of letters go unsold,

An era in which the literati have excelled

so in its season there is no demand for them.

Yet they lack sincerity in their season

يَسوقُ إِلَيَّ هَمّا بَعدَ هَمٍّ

يَسوقُ إِلَيَّ هَمّا بَعدَ هَمٍّ

وَعَتبي عَن مَسامِعِهِ يُساقُ

وَعَتبي عَن مَسامِعِهِ يُساقُ

It brings me worry after worry,

It leads me from one sorrow to the next

and my reproach is driven away from its ears.

While my reproach is driven from their hearing

لِأَنّي لَستُ آمُلُ بُقياً

لِأَنّي لَستُ آمُلُ بُقياً

وَهَل يَبقى عَلى القَمَرِ المَحاقُ

وَهَل يَبقى عَلى القَمَرِ المَحاقُ

For I do not hope for mercy—

Since I have no more hope of remaining

and does the waning spare the moon?

Does the new moon remain in its last phase?