Where you will stop at last...

The next destination is the grave
A translation of a beautiful Arabic poem

زود من التقوى فإنك لا تدري *** إذا جن ليل هل تعيش إلى الفجـر
فكـم من فتى أمسى وأصبح ضاحكا *** وقد نسجت أكفانه وهو لا يـدري
وكم من صغار يرتجى لهم طول العمر *** وقد أدخلت أجسادهم ظلمة القبـر
وكـم من عروس زينوها لعرسـها *** وقد قبضت أرواحهم ليلـة القـدر
وكـم من صحيح مات من غير علة *** وكم من سقيم عاش حينا من الدهر
فـمن عـاش ألفـا وألفيـن إنـه *** لابـد من يـوم يسـير إلى القبر

“Take taqwa as your provision, for you do not know
When the night darkens, will you live until fajr?

For how many of a youth laughs by morning and evening
And his shrouds have been weaved, and he does not know.

And how many of young ones are expected to live long
But their bodies are made to enter the darkness of the grave.

And how many of a bride have they beautified for her husband
And their souls have been seized on the night of decree.

And how many of a healthy one dies without an illness
And how many of an ill one has lived for a good time

So whoever lives for a thousand and more
They must one day, make their way to their grave”