يقولُ لِيَ الشَّيْبُ وقد راعَنِي

يقولُ لِيَ الشَّيْبُ وقد راعَنِي

منه سَناً قد أبادني الوَسَنَا

منه سَناً قد أبادني الوَسَنَا

Gray hair says to me, and I have been startled

Gray hair says to me, now that it startles me,

by its radiance, which has deprived me of slumber:

With age that makes me decrepit because of how worn I’ve become,

إلى مَ لا تَرْعَوِي ألسْتَ تَرَى

إلى مَ لا تَرْعَوِي ألسْتَ تَرَى

قد لبستْ كلُّ شعرةٍ كفَنَا

قد لبستْ كلُّ شعرةٍ كفَنَا

“How long will you remain heedless? Do you not see

“Do you not see that you are headed to what you cannot perceive?”

that every hair has already donned a shroud?”

For each hair has put on a shroud.