1. By my life! If Yazīd ibn Nahshal
Becomes but a grave covered with dust, sniffed at by the winds,

2. He was truly one who was generous with his open palm
When the miserly, stingy hands were mean.

3. After you, the spiteful one showed his spite,
And the squint-eyed shut their eyes against me.

4. I remembered him whose generosity died with his death,
Ending in a way that ruined life when life was good.

5. When I stay up, the early night passes away,
Rolled up by a piece of night that leans toward dawn,

6. So that Yazīd may weep, disputing with adversaries,
And troubled by what the winds blow down.

7. He watered a grave that by evening was desolate
With a bucket and a small skin, lent by a neighbor.

8. It became stripped after the earth uncovered his shroud -
Do you know how a bier walks without feet?