Woo not the world too rashly, for behold,
Beneath the painted silk and broidering,
It is a faithless and inconstant thing.
(Listen to me, Mu’tamid, growing old.)
And we— that dreamed youth’s blade would never rust,
Hoped wells from the mirage, roses from the sand —
The riddle of the world shall understand
And put on wisdom with the robe of dust.
From: ibn Abbad al-Mu’tamid, Muhammad and Smith, Dulcie Lawrence (transl.), Wisdom of the East: The Poems of Mu’tamid, King of Seville, 1915, John Murray: London, p. 54.
(https://archive.org/details/poemsofmutamidk00muta)
Date: 11th century (original in Arabic); 1915 (translation in English)
By: Muhammad ibn Abbad al-Mu’tamid (1040-1095)
Translated by: Dulcie Lawrence Smith (18??-19??)
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