1. She said, while in her breast was the abode of burning passion:
Oh, would that you had not honored my dwelling with your visit!

2. Though fair she be, an idol in her beauty,
Yet no blessing on my lovesick folly!

3. In praising the most faithful of chieftains it soars high
Dividing poetry between panegyric and love songs.

4. Blood of the Exalted, O son of the Bounty of God, mounting
The horizon of glory, having been nurtured on the first.

5. O you whom I knew through gaining thousands and through
Its perfection, though it came and I did not ask.

6. Your generosity has left me nothing to hope for;
You left me accompanying the world without hope.

7. All the competent ones, whose views are present,
Are like swords, but Dhu'l-Faqar is Ali.