ما الشيب عندي والخضاب لواصف ... إلّا كشمس جلّلت بسحاب تخفي قليلا ثم يقشعها الصّبا ... فيصير ما سترت به لذهاب
White hair and the dye to me are to be described Like nothing but a sun covered by clouds It is concealed for a while then the east wind scatters them, And what it was veiled with ends up being gone