1. Arise before the dawn departs,
Arise, so your worries’ cup you upend.

2. Arise, O reveler, and call out
To the repentant: “Awake for gain!”

3. The shame is that the morn appears
While you are drunk and acting insane,

4. Amongst lads who all night have seen
In it loss, though they hoped for gain.

5. Of every libertine taken with youth,
Obsessed with carnal lust and pain,

6. Burdened with disobeying edicts
In idleness and jesting vain,

7. Foolish steeds running in the race‐course
Of wantonness, seeking their bane,

8. His every whim has controlled
The youth, agreed and profane.

9. From a palm slighted and in poverty,
Tattered clothes and cloak worn and plain.

10. I hid my sadness, though his beauty
Brings me nothing but distress and stain.

11. The illness of his eyelids toyed with us,
As healthy hearts know not feign.

12. A warbler singing our praise
Of my father Al‐Fatuh the benign,

13. My brother Al‐Samah the honored
Of unblemished, guarded honor and fame,

14. And supporter of resolve sincere
By signs of generosity plain,

15. His environs ever flourishing,
Though the year be dusty and dry.

16. Gentle towards benevolence, disposed
To it, at peace and entertainment.

17. He has come to evening and cares
Only for all that is noble and fair.

18. His generosity blots out the exemplars
As the night blots out the dawn’s glare.

19. A manner well mixed like wine
Mixed with cool limpid water, clear.

20. A cheek that smiles like a meadow
Laughing on all its sides so fair.

21. In his palm a pen that would shake
The mountain‐tops when armies prepare.

22. Swifter to strike in battles
Than an Indian sword sharp and bare.

23. O best hope! You came to me
So I succeeded, aspiring there!

24. You ended my hopes, and gave
Beyond my dreams, exceeding my prayer!

25. So I came to you, my arrow quivered
In you its target, straight and fair.

26. O you who spared me having to stretch
My hand out to miserly hands so spare!

27. Of an manner that heals, and behind it
Pages of manners ugly and impaired.

28. Thus when your promises speak true,
More lying even than phantoms of air.

29. To you belongs glory of the religion,
An Arab maiden untouched by man there.

30. She permitted none but the sons
Of Muzaffar to take her, without compare.

31. A people who cured my worries with but
A handful of water fresh and rare.

32. Why do they blame me, while fate
Seeks to conquer me, harm me, ensnare?

33. I have no excuse if days wish
To wrong me and cast me in despair,

34. With them I tame the calamities
Of days, after loss and hardship to bear

35. They are safety from fate, and excellence
Of their viewpoint is my weapon and ware,

36. From fate, what will they scare?
Except to avert from me hurt and impair.

37. A time I befriend, but its course
Brings me nothing but struggle and care.

38. Enough what events changing
Have wounded me, beyond all repair.

39. O you who has favor that grows
Too great to just praise and declare!

40. You still trail the garment’s train
Of success between dawn and prayer.

41. Joys are accustomed to you from going
To returning in fortune and fanfare.

42. Remaining between sudden victories
And joy, greeted by goodness and care.