1. Leave the yearning, the nights of wandering lost, forget
The days gone by, do not dwell on memories past,

2. Speak not in praise of Nejd and those who dwell there,
Pay no visit to me, in this abode forlorn.

3. The daughters of the Arabs, for all their beauty famed,
Are less fair than the daughters of Turks and Persians acclaimed,

4. Lovely of figure, gentle in their ways, virtuous in deed,
Each a supple sapling, swaying with womanly charm.

5. A glimpse of her face or arm through her mantle's folds
Is like the sun in a tent of darkest night enclosed.

6. Her swaying form stirs desire in my heart for love untold,
And many the wounds those darting glances have caused my soul.

7. Slender of waist, pure of heart, singing a graceful song,
Plucking the strings of the lute, fingers dancing along,

8. Eyes whose lids are narrow have slain me without remorse,
And nothing so surely will bring about my death before its course.

9. Lips whose movements are hard to decipher or understand
Surpass in judgment the ablest writer's pen or hand,

10. Shed no tears for me amongst the living when I am gone,
At a campsite with sheep and goats bleating all day long.

11. Make for the towers of thankfulness, if there you stand,
Mas'ud ibn Husam ad-Din, generous of hand,

12. A sanctuary of kindness it is, where noble guests throng,
Like pilgrims circling the Kaaba, beloved and sanctified.

13. For Sa'd ad-Din, Ibn al-Bishara, may his glory spread,
With open hand that enriches and leaves no soul unfed.

14. His fingers can make swords, reins, paper and pens obey,
As warrior his standards are raised where armies clash in bloody fray.

15. Raids against the foe in multitudes he has led,
Putting many to the sword, making captives of women and babes instead,

16. If he met a lion in battle, midst the raging attack,
The lion would turn and flee, showing him only its back.

17. A true lion in might, the sun reflects his armor's sheen,
A star gives him courage, his sword like a flame is keen.

18. His coat of mail like locusts' wings all aquiver does gleam,
His blade like the rising star falls heavy, its edge is supreme.

19. When I stumbled, he lifted me up from the fall I feared,
Never would he cast me down, though disaster seemed near.

20. I thank him, my gratitude flows like Zuhair did extol,
His fame and renown in verse and song of old.

21. Ever aspiring to glory, delivering the helpless in their need,
Rescuing from oblivion, this is his way and creed.

22. The mention of his father's name brings a smile to his face,
Without him, but for God, I'd be weak and abased.

23. Long may he live in power, honor, joy and health,
Blessed with bounty and grace, comfort and wealth.

24. The best of gifts he sends me, ten camels proud and fine,
Their sculpted saddles a marvel, embroidered with artful design.