1. O Abu Fadl, and son of virtue, you raise him,
So it is unseemly for another to have virtue over you,

2. Your hands have come to me, which I cannot count,
Due to their abundance, neither ingratitude nor ignorance from me,

3. But I inform you about them with a glance,
That delights you - what has met it before is not its equal,

4. A lamb came to me, I had no doubt,
That it was a confidant of love that estrangement and separation had rendered eloquent,

5. When it stood in the sun at noon, I saw its form
Like a phantom that moved in darkness that had no shade,

6. So I asked it, “What do you desire?” It said, “Some greens,”
And I asked it, “What has made you eloquent?” It said to me, “Hunger.”

7. So I brought it some green plants, glistening with dew,
Whole and untouched by the reaper,

8. And it remained watching it with a feeble eye,
And reciting poetry to it while tears flowed down its cheek,

9. The possessions of death came between it and I,
And it bid farewell when farewell is of no avail.