1. Our loved ones, no eye tires of you
In any land, but every valley is hell

2. And after you, the months of the world hold no joy
So this is empty Safar, and that is sacred Muharram

3. Return as the minister returned to the thirsty man
Who called on his accustomed Lord, so he drank to satiation

4. Ask me of the generosity of the two ministers, for I have
Two praises that begin with beautiful mention and end likewise

5. For this minister, realms made great
And that, famed for glory, it's been said greater still

6. I pastured my spring in Egypt and Syria under the protection
Of two ministers, each supreme in sovereignty

7. And glorious fortune reminded me of ruin
So I said, "Let me be after this embittered"