1. You were beguiled by literature of old
Adornments like the buzzing of flies

2. Your comrades are but wolves
Who lurk to praise or malign

3. More harmful to those you hate
And thievish with words than thieves

4. I lend you undue praise
As if it flowed from enemies' lips

5. Shall I spend my grey days on you
As I spent my days of youth?

6. God forbid! I've turned from my ignorance
Enough for me are vows and music

7. Tales of mist and House of Ka'b -
I've discarded like a torrent of mist

8. To me, praise of the loved is but
Poems to the House of Lovers composed

9. Let the scion of Hujr reckon them
And all else said of Ibn al-Mist

10. In my words Mother of Howeirath
Is no metaphor, nor Mother of Music

11. And warrior felling horsemen is to me
Slayer of those bleating ewes

12. I have surrendered eloquence
To the Arabs whose utterances pour

13. Vexations dissipate without praise
And return only with malediction

14. Leave me to lose mindless speech
And I'll bar my door to the doves