1. You have exceeded in my passion and in tormenting me,
And along with harm I ransom you from the beloved.

2. O cruel one, if only your heart would know,
The softness of youth from his intoxicated body.

3. Alas for a rose above your cheek red,
If only that rose was my fortune.

4. And a glance that inherits saltiness in the gazelle,
Inherits the generosity in the sons of Ayyub.

5. The sons of Ayyub opened the doors of hope,
And their seas came with every wonder.

6. With their kingdom they raised the flags of guidance,
And protected the canopy of His erected house.

7. To their pillar their supremacies ended,
And to the sublime ended the noble.

8. A kingdom with its slightest authority and intimacy,
Made me forget the dew of old age and the might of youth.

9. Generosity fills, knowledge fills,
Hearing fills, and honor fills hearts.

10. I have become accustomed to the pipe of grace and melody,
Its right day of dew and day of wars.

11. So if you look you find the sustenance of the world,
And the blood of enemies overflowing from the pipe.

12. How much praise have I listened to and rewarded,
Excelling in analysis and ornamentation.

13. And in every land I have become accustomed to,
Pasture corresponding to its drought with fertility.

14. O Lord of good news from it, lost of dew,
Who meets praises in exchange for a beloved.