1. Glory as my house, so let there be congratulations,
Food for the one with a flowing beard and melody,

2. Destiny played with its inclusiveness and left
An idol among idols, had it not been for the spirit,

3. What is wrong with him? I noticed him blushing,
While his gardens and my wounded heart,

4. He shot his arrows but his hands did not aim at me,
An arrow that hurts while arrows give comfort,

5. The shrine is near but no shrine, rather
The gardens where we meet then part,

6. Our secrets were exposed to you and our
Allusions appeared clear to you,

7. When the camels were cut off my soul was cut off,
As if they were my family, and torn apart,

8. Farewell revealed from the beloved, virtues
The beauty of consolation, though the ugly appears,

9. A hand waving, an eye glancing,
Yearning melting, and pouring tears,

10. The doves would lament even if my lament was absent
The lotus tree would mourn with the doves,

11. It leaned if the north blew on a rider
On its expanse, it would rest while the winds blow,

12. I competed with the trotting of the riders and rode
Fearing death, praising God made them slow,

13. Had it not been for the trusted one, the son of Muhammad
No danger would have been predicted or advice given,

14. Whenever soft nor strong wind blew
It allowed me and her the doves a place to go,

15. We sensed it before the sky clouded with its lightning
And the free-flowing generosity before the winds blow,

16. Hoping for benefit, fearing harm,
Defeated, the cup of glory poured out,

17. Angry at the full moon that brought no harm
And forgiving the one who wronged me,

18. Had he divided the generosity that divided his money
Among the people, none would be stingy,

19. His hearing ignored blame and left
A mark on the faces of villains that still show,

20. This is the one, time passed and his mention
And story in its books still overflow,

21. Our minds dazzled by his beauty
Our clouds opened by his irrigation flow,

22. He covers the skeptic so his irrigation channel is not
Returned broken, and the silent are made whole,

23. On dust, corpses from blood, while on the sky
Erased marks from fighting still show,

24. The slain walks to the slain ahead of him
The lord of generosity, while the fallen behind him lie low,

25. So the place of loving lover is delighted with him
While the place of the angry enemy is struck with woe,

26. He hides his enmity though it is not hidden
The look of the enemy reveals what he would hide,

27. Oh son of one who did not gather with his son
Nobility, nor did the grandfather gather the grave,

28. We would sacrifice ourselves against a flood if asked for help,
Against horror when blood and Messiah mix,

29. Had you been an ocean no coast contained you,
Or a rain, the horizon would be too narrow,

30. I feared for the country and its people because of you
As Noah fearfully warned his folk long ago,

31. Incapacity at confusion, beyond it,
God’s provision and your open door,

32. This poem sorely needs your kindness
To be your equal when praised, that is far too much to hope,

33. The scent of the gardens, their words
Seek praise of the living and thus diffuse,

34. The effort of the insignificant, so what about the son
Of a generous woman who gives him good speech,