1. The glances of eyes that do not forgive,
And the pride of eyelids that wound the passions,

2. And the water of shyness that does not cleanse foulness,
And the fire of cheeks that inflames the desires,

3. And the sight of beauty whose crescent is drawn,
To the heart it is sweeter and to the eye it is more tempting,

4. And the essence of a mouth that saddens the heart with its touch,
Though they claimed that jewels bring joy,

5. By whom I have kissed the cheeks at dawn,
When my excuse for patience was very clear,

6. Charms led straying passions towards them,
And the gazing heart continued to aspire,

7. If the aspects of beauty are biased,
Then patience in freedom is ugly indeed,

8. So, glory to an agony that does not fade,
And a man whose eyes swim in tears,

9. And a soul that refused but contention towards youth,
Sloth overcame it and the course of gray hair accumulated,

10. The dove moans as if the dawn,
Were waking its heart when it rises,

11. It repeats its cooing melodiously,
So my heart cracks when it laments,

12. That is only because songfulness is lost,
It hints sorrows at me so I confess,

13. And reminds me of an intimate friend now lost,
And its plaintive cry to me is incomprehensible,

14. Neither the distance of the home and its people,
Distressed me in my land, nor the loss of what my gaze discerned,

15. My feet roamed in the meadows of the Tigris,
And my gaze in the meadows of Harzam,

16. Abodes that I do not recall their downfall and bending,
And entering them did not grieve me to elucidate,

17. Nor did I rest my gaze in them,
So the eye and heart relax and expand,

18. If I have left behind intimacy and companions,
Noble, to their heights honor inclines,

19. So patience for what the hand of fate has corrupted,
Perhaps He will fix it with the righteous King,

20. A King when I aimed to praise his glory,
His attributes teach me how to eulogize,

21. In valor and munificence he has a pure soul,
More generous than a lion or rain showering,

22. His apology is narrower than a tailor's needle,
And his breast is more expansive than the flat earth,

23. By his hands distractions dissolve in an hour,
To a king between me and you reforming,

24. Indeed, time had continued to grieve me for his absence,
And sadden my heart for what would bring me joy,

25. So I said to the course of fate, here I am traveling,
And the gates of forgiveness close and open,

26. To a king who outshines kings and emerges,
And the gates of forgiveness close and open,

27. To a king whose spring of generosity is not,
Troubled, nor is the pasture of forgiveness screaming,

28. To a king who meets praise with the like,
And bestows graciously after praise and forgives,

29. To a king who still addresses praise,
And increased until he almost praises praise,

30. To a king whose eulogy poetry has wasted,
So the eulogists have become rugged and tattered,

31. The nobles say when I visited his abode,
Gently, how much do you roam the land and toil?

32. If you will be content to be counted as a merchant,
Come, for the merchant of praise profits,

33. So I produced from my thoughts every ornate ode,
Adorning its rhythms the polished ingenious,

34. And immortalized my poetry in anthologies, for I see,
Poetry’s worth ascends when it wounds,

35. So O king whose clemency has made people covetous,
For how much they hope so he pardons and overlooks,

36. Thwart the scheme of one not commanded the contrary,
And remind him of the fire he persisted in igniting,

37. For the enemies are certain you are compassionate,
So they dared reprehensible acts of treachery and insolence,

38. If you do good their evil is weakened,
And every vessel oozes what is inside it,

39. Had they followed the word of God and His command,
They would have said: reconciliation is best for people,

40. Be gentle in the feast of immolation and sacrifice animosity,
For your generosity is an eternal feast for all,

41. Sacrifice the likes of them and you have never ceased,
While without your aid the ritual slaughters are performed,