1. I imagined in my poetic words an oasis
Yet no gleam arose for me from the clouds

2. And how often I strove in the art of arithmetic a benefit
Yet the reckoning of fate was not my reckoning

3. Until the door of piety called the guide of hope
So the attainment was an overflowing response to my plea

4. Oh minister, from his piety and kindness
I narrated the hadith of favors as my companions

5. And oh generous one, I do not need from him
A notebook I bring and a book

6. I opened through it the door of praise and hope
And closed off from seeking noble deeds my door

7. If the page of my praise falls short of him
It surely did not fall short, by God, the pages of my reward