1. The days of joy and blossoming passions,
Youth has given you to drink, fresh and cascading.

2. Your spring was generous, fragrant and murmuring,
The morning breeze between a watering hole and rain shower.

3. The leaves sang joyously around you, celebrating
In tunes echoing the most beautiful news.

4. You have not ceased delighting in beauty,
Nor have the hands of fate cast you with hateful events.

5. Neither have the spirits of the breeze made you nonexistent,
Nor have your singing meadows turned into past showers.

6. How much delight they gave me, while my blossoming youth
Moved from an abode filled with longing and remembrance.

7. How often I glimpsed horizons at their rising,
How much I attained at their beauty as if plucking a radiant moon.

8. Each gazelle glancing with languor,
Adorned with beauty between gracefulness and wide-eyed charm.

9. Time's hand clothes their forms in the garb of youth,
And the nights make them the temptation of mortals.

10. Smooth are those upon whom morning poured the water of youth,
And clothed them in the raiment of brilliance.

11. She stood embracing me the day we parted,
And I garlanded her with the finest pearls of my tears.

12. She speaks while distance shrouds her,
With tears flowing down her cheek in caution:

13. "Do not blame fate if the smoothness of its aspects
Were not devoid of bitterness and distress.

14. And if you seek to avoid its sudden hardships,
Take refuge in the shadow of the pillar of faith."

15. A master whom tomorrow's security was indebted,
His open arms being sanctuary for the wary and cautious.

16. He kept rising to the heights,
With glory elevating him high above the flowers.

17. Until he reached the most exalted summits of glory,
Strutting in the garments of horizons and meadows.

18. With the resolve of a fierce lion,
And the determination of a polished sword.

19. No eminent person ever surpassed him,
Except he bent with shame and frustration.

20. His brilliant pens upon the white paper
Left lines like the spreading of a flowery meadow.

21. He is adorned with rivers and basins,
Meeting you cheerful and smiling,

22. With speech whose flowers are sweeter than nectar.
The meadow never yielded its blossoms at dawn,

23. Or crowned its plains with intertwined flowers,
Except it poured out its secrets in showers for him,

24. And morning gifted him the most tender magic.
He shone with light despite being far from home,

25. Like the Aboolis river, beautiful to behold.
You'd think the flowers of his nooks were

26. Blossoms carefully protected from other hands.
The doves sing at his branches in enchantment,

27. Igniting yearning in ardent hearts.
One day presenting the best vision,

28. With the sweetest fragrance spreading from him.
O eminent one, how novel were the first fruits of your thoughts,

29. Which charmed us with most excellent forms.
And O son of nobles, who strengthened with their resolve

30. The pillar of sublimity in ages past.
O pillar of the house of excellence, lifting it

31. From its weakness, so it avoids peril.
To you this poem came, so welcome it

32. As a creation woven for you, chief of nomad and city dweller.
You remain in bounties still rising

33. Beyond the two seas, where eagles have not flown.
My voice never lamented with "Alas!" over you,

34. Nor have the doves' branches rustled with separation and dawn.
Neither has the darkness of night been illuminated by lightning,

35. With brilliance rivaling the beauty of flowers.