1. My poetry is smitten and obsessed
And the excellence of poetry is attributed and described

2. I have been burdened with what I cannot bear
And whoever bears what burdens him is burdened

3. I almost lost my mind obeying them
And my beard would have perished if I kept turning away

4. I spend my nights and days despondent and dejected
While my head and what's above it are exposed

5. I have nothing, and nothing has been bestowed upon me
My livelihood is mean, deaf and blind

6. From those rough-edged people's heels
Is the blood of those who have oars with them

7. Plaited with unraveling, and its nature
Is undoubtedly unraveling and knitting

8. Sympathizing, my dear son of a mother,
With the crafty, bent and attached

9. How many a killer with his hands in good things
And the good thing is picked and plucked

10. If that is so, then no wonder or blame
For nights and days have cycles

11. This one whom whoever sees him without touching him
Has never eaten meat except when it's shredded

12. And has never lifted his head joyfully
Except with paper strips in his right hand

13. While he sees the garment spread for no reason
Until he sees it, after spreading, folded

14. So many pains and so many woes, is my foolishness
Nothing but the result of a lightened head?

15. I befriended him according to my love for him
Beyond the wilderness, and the beloved is accustomed

16. Accustomed to virtues and usefulness, a young lion
Mohammed, better than whoever calls him ardently

17. A free man, when the noble are included
Embracing generosity with known benevolence

18. The like of him is the growth of generous masters
The elite whose nights have aromatic herbs

19. The stars are counted but his merits are not
And no description or classification encompasses them