1. Everyone claims, "To glory I ascend!"
While glory is my glory, and success my prize,

2. He craves to grasp it with no travail or pain,
And reach its summit with no steps to rise.

3. To the noble soul my heart is liberal,
While to it the sword is niggard of its blow.

4. The coward never seeks to attain it -
For fate ne'er grants it to the servile low.

5. Had the vile possessed it, its purity
Would still be free of their pollution's stain,

6. More would I mourn him who, falling, lost his sword
Than weep o'er ten that fell by spearheads slain.

7. My streaming tears I check, their wonted course forgetting,
While to my gate accustomed throngs their safety get.

8. Before this body's dwellers, and before my heart,
And ere the end, and long before the start.

9. Remember ye the time when your abode was the saddle,
And aloofness from the fair your habit and your rule?

10. Ye questioned then the lightning glance of a fawn, and won
No answer from those tear-drops beautiful.

11. The winds recite the story of your swift-foot camels,
As though the tale still echoed in their ears,

12. I hid my love's dear secret, and my soul supposed
My very limbs and vitals were its confidants;

13. And thus my frame supposed that ye were my spirit,
While neither knows what in my heart remains.

14. So love can find no rest within my bosom,
And sickness knows not what my raiment screens.

15. Why does my heart seek refuge in my loved ones,
Then chide at me when I forsake my friends?

16. Its cares estranged me from their intimacy,
Its gleams then wrapped my footsteps' very steps in gloom,

17. Darkness like itself I don when it is o'er me,
As though the sun itself was but my vesture's hue.

18. Could I but companied awhile then departed,
None would suspect the fawn her vesture left behind,

19. Journey, my lords, the long, long road of hope, and whiten
The cheek of effort with the brush of hard essay,

20. Till in your lifespan there remains no moment
Wherein the sword licks not the blood of mighty heroes.

21. Follow the footsteps of my father, and gainsay
His lifelong rectitude with slander's voice profane!

22. By his close-fisted generosity, had he not been open-handed,
Dust for the throngs of suppliants had been but rare.

23. Wide are his doorways for petitioners, but his largesse
From doors still wider overflows in streams.

24. Those who await his bounty deem he grants their wishes,
So eager he to give, and hospitable of mien,

25. Yet almost he'll refuse the food he grants the needy,
Lest accepting it detract from their reward.

26. Suspicion of his bounty would restore the raven hair
Of vanished youth to nights of joy and pleasure.

27. And hoary eld, because he lavished bounty's store,
Deemed that he thus regained his youthful years once more.

28. No fault in him but generosity alone,
Which makes the hand of Allah to be poor.

29. He courts fame though she be a stranger, yet views not
A father's honor as the height of fortunes proud.

30. By his own hands he's wrought youth's noblest achievements,
And claims his fathers' glories, and ancestral days.

31. In raiment dyed with life-blood from his breast,
That o'er his steps flows like a crimson-tainted shroud.

32. Naught treasures he for his posterity
Save praise; for praise the heritage of noble sons.

33. Prepare your garb for action! Events heed not
Your noble rank, your line of highborn fathers gone!

34. Who mingles with the steeds of heroes, loftily disdains
The venom spit by worms of soul malign.

35. As though he sacks the goblets of his foes, and draws
Wine from their skulls, not chalices or cups ornate.

36. Eloquence, though you seek her, still his hand will grasp,
And answer well her questions, well her doubts resolve.

37. Despite the dark he's brighter yet than suns,
And guides aright the ignorant through ways involved,

38. Out from his pen's cleft fountain flows a tide
Like the exposed fangs of serpents swift to strike.

39. He soars to the ideas, heedless of the paper,
Addressing it, though it reply to him is slack.

40. He teaches men the ways of grace, while in his heart
No grace abides, nor any noble trait held back.

41. Small difference 'twixt him and the Sammauri in merit,
Which subtle minds can readily perceive intact.

42. One reconciles each rift which discord made,
The other splits the rope which joins each separate pact.

43. This one's tongue flatters not, though he travel far and wide, While that one's tongue despoils and ruins every land.
In generosity and kindliness distinguished,

44. In sport of youth and pleasures light, they're matched alike.
If his pre-eminence is revealed by your grace,

45. A lofty Peak unveiled, Obscurity's dark veil ripped back,
A flood of skill like Heaven's downpour from its clouds,

46. Has clothed the robe of honor in a brocade new.
A stalwart band, whose hooves have trampled the heights of many a land Leaving their depths upturned, and toppled to the ground.

47. Against them the vain arrows fall back shattered,
As prey caught fast in the claws of swooping kites.

48. A towering tree, the sandgrouse wagers on its strength,
And would its boughs as feathered shafts try.

49. The archer shrouds himself while taking aim, and yet
About you he entwines as bindweed weak entwined.

50. Though, did you tread his breast, you'd pierce it through
Without a joint, as piercing reed unfurled.

51. When then will mighty monarchs test your mettle?
For you count days of might, and days of combat.

52. While they, assenting, weigh your words, your silence
Concludes the converse, seals th' appeal at end.

53. Yet when for them the swords' keen points suffice,
Your hand excels, in its sharp harvests reaped.

54. Against their foes when they ride forth, their breasts
Are armor for their kinsmen's charges at their rear.

55. You entertained the steeds with wine, and leapt
The leap of heroes who press on toward their spear.

56. The virtues of your sires you have inherited,
Those noble lords' estates, from your forefathers gaining.

57. A folk who, when they share the spoils of fate and time,
Find glory but a residue of what is gained.

58. And if to end their eulogy's your wish,
Then brand them with disgrace, and titles foul.

59. When I approached you, joy about to overcome me,
You turned it back, bleeding, upon its heels.

60. The realm of time was checked by your command and ended,
While I submitted to your words so sweet.

61. Abashed is time, whose ways familiarized me,
And to me turns, uncertain, hesitatingly.

62. While youthful throngs, whom apathy made dull,
Now praise me in their songs, their rhymed eulogies.

63. They said, "You've dwelt upon our land," and I replied,
"Great souls expect my leaving, and my swift return."

64. If the she-camels long-necked, freed, have perished
After the pulling of their reins made them leave all behind,

65. And they bestowed on me their young, with sharp cries,
I freely granted health and life unto the unsound.

66. My frequent roaming the land complains of, while I complain
Of lack of change, and paucity of movement.

67. The freshest draughts I pour for a friend in praise,
And from a foe's honor veil abuse and slights.