One of the Arab kings was ill in old age and had given up hope of life, when a rider came in and brought the good news that we had conquered such and such a fortress by the grace of God, and the enemies were captured and the army and the subjects of that side all became obedient to the command; the king sighed coldly and said: This good news is not for me, but for my enemies, that is, the heirs of the kingdom.

With this hope it ended, alas, dear life

That what is in my heart may come forth from my door

A hope arose, but what is the use since

There is no hope that the past life will return

The drum of departure was struck by the hand of fate

O my two eyes, bid farewell to the head

O palm of hand, forearm, and arm

All bid farewell to one another

Upon me, fallen, the enemy's desire

Finally, O friends, pass by

My time passed in ignorance

I did not (take heed), you take heed