1. Do you think my eyelids have dried after the intention, no, not even at the shrine in Najaf,
I wipe the tears on my cheeks in sorrow, so my palms fill up whenever I wipe,

2. If I were able to visit you, I would have visited until I saw the fattened one after leanness,
And how can a wretched old man visit while shackled by worries if worries lead him astray,

3. I said to the one who blamed me excessively, you have exaggerated in blaming, woe to you, be lenient,
They who tortured my heart with reproach, my heart did not deviate from them nor sway,

4. I yearn for Huzwa and al-Naqa when shadows descend, at the countryside of Ghoutah or drifts,
O, the aroma of censors on moustaches of prominent noses with their glory,

5. A people, whenever called to raid, they block the passes with warriors and barricades,
And every swimming eyelid sets out in the morning with an Indian sword, polished and encased,

6. So you see only swords dripping blood from striking, and a horseman fluttering his garment,
The prayer of an oppressed person pierces the puffing of an attacker, time casts him with scattering,

7. And he hoped the decrease in his fortune would dissipate, with the heavyweight and most honored,
That was Imru’ al-Qais, an equitable poet and disseminator, my saying is known by the learned,

8. The strands of pearls are only his stringing, not the threading of coincidental imperfect pearls from an oyster,
The people of merit have the finest abodes for their leisure, in Aleppo the most generous palm,

9. With the victorious king, abundant in bounty, heir of kings, succeeding those past,
When the Aleppan saw a rich sea, he called it “Come safe, do not be afraid!”,

10. The companions visited him, like Asma’i, Hakim, Hammad, and the virtuous successor,
News of him came to me, relating his passing, so the zeal of denying his death left me,

11. And how many good tidings came to me about him, whose bride was sent to me adorned,
So people came congratulating me about it, while the envious one burned in the fire of sorrow,

12. And everyone stood praying for the victorious king in the mosque, row after row,
And they said: “Favor is placed in the sites of gifts,” so he won grace,

13. And the rattling of mills has deafened my hearing, while my children cluster,
So fulfill the promise to them from a king whose only vice in his generosity is extravagance,

14. The people gave me tidings of a thousand dirhams, if it does not arrive, every sorrow will come to me,
And I have an abstinence which its bird has not approached vileness or sorrow,

15. If the feathers of my steed glisten for the vultures in the desert, who will provide fodder?