1. We have the pleasure of chatting in the neighborhood,
While the bright moon in the dark sky wanders.

2. Beautiful maidens with fruitful bosoms,
Though the branches of the banana tree bear no fruits.

3. Veiled ladies who conceal the night with their veils,
They did not violate the night except when they shone like moons.

4. They visit every lover in the cloak of darkness,
While the full moon roams in the darkness of night.

5. If the neighbors had any sense the day we were separated,
They would have lamented, but alas these ignorant fools!

6. The ruins of my beloved aroused my sadness,
And my tears flowed copiously over the traces.

7. I do not grieve, though they traveled away,
Yesterday their house was home, but no longer is it my home.

8. My consolation is my youth, I do not fret over ruins,
For the young, separation excuses all.

9. Had they visited or kept their promise,
The burden of yearning would have eased within me.

10. I had hoped to glimpse them again one day,
But hoping is like patience, both are treacherous.

11. I imagine they have bewitched my morn, so it remained night,
Such is love to the beguiled, a sorcerer.

12. They turned away and went on their way, but how sweet are their deeds,
To the lover, though they turned away and went on their way.

13. They came near, yet their memory did not, though they claimed so,
The most distant people are those their memory avoids.

14. They are the neighbors of my heart, though they stayed or left,
And its dwellers, when the homes are inhabited.

15. From them and from the robes of the desert they donned,
And the maker of firmaments, March, wove them.

16. The blossoms of Hassanein and the delicate blooms,
Even if bleak, I say they are lights and splendors.

17. My heart is better off being patient than grieving,
For the breeze to speak of trees is more apt.

18. A waft that does not belong to them changes me,
The perfume it spreads is fragrant incense.

19. O you who dyed my heart with passion fruit and created its garden,
Promising and patient with my heart.

20. My blood appears on your cheek to bear witness,
Yet denial appears in your eyelids and glances.

21. My tears and my fire, both are extinguished,
A cheek that collects water and fire.

22. On it the traces of murder for every blood,
Wasted, and the murdered has no avenger.

23. My eyelid did not fear your specter to meet it,
Except that my eyelid, as I have known, is like a current.

24. Passion found the fire in my entrails to kindle it,
Tears like the generosity of Safi Addin, bitter.

25. From its diffusion and dew are benefits
His abundant favors are granted and preferred.

26. He spends his money though it would harm him,
And the noble whose name in horizons flies.

27. His assets give him travels on ships
And around him are attractions for praise unfurled.

28. Tomorrow he will reach the highest of all stations,
As if the kingdom is a heart and he its mysteries.

29. He rises with his ambition elevated,
As if its produce is for him walls and battlements.

30. With his wisdom verses have achieved victory,
And the cave of ambitions is his mighty pickax.

31. His regiments, whose books he sometimes dispatches,
Are like the lines the seekers of commands string together.

32. Lightning against his enemies, though it ravaged their homes,
And on the disobedient dew and rains poured forth.

33. Reviving poverty, killing stinginess, his clouds,
For people, ages and lives he proffers.

34. Straight arrows that were builders of glory but passed away,
And goodly tales of them remained.

35. No calamity made them powerless with their might,
Nor were they disgraced, humiliated.

36. The roads of glory were facilitated with no equals to them,
If an envious one sought them, they are shameful.

37. In drought, fear, and darkness they give us aid,
From them come rain, lightening, and moons.

38. From my father comes victory with moral fiber,
O the great pride of conquest and helpers!

39. Awake, I am filled with praise of him,
Such is praise to the generous, intoxicating.

40. It shakes with the thrill of one soothed by its melody,
As if a lover shaken by strings.

41. O you who buy poetry at a valuable price,
Were it not for you, poetry would have no value.

42. You wore your delegation’s gowns of wealth threadbare
After ages where they were concealed.

43. No ordeals befell me but that you gave me victory,
So attackers fell with no avail of claw and fang.

44. I emerged by your name from the prison of despondency, after
Much time my actions were suppressed by the days.

45. So is the sword, formidable in the grip of the formidable,
And in the grip of the dexterous.

46. You never ceased to offer me pure bliss without distress,
While bliss’s ingrate is muddied distress.

47. For every estrangement you endure fasting, and for you
Is breakfast upon the joy of praise and thanks.