1. O best of those clothed in glory and generosity,
And most virtuous of people, both Arab and non-Arab,

2. O son of munificence, dew, and gathered clouds,
As well as wisdom, knowledge, manners, and discernment,

3. If I were granted what I wish for,
I would bear the burden you have been made to carry,

4. And I would consider it a victorious hand
From hands, and a most plentiful share,

5. Until your body regains health and wellbeing,
And you turn to the most high and generous,

6. God knows that since I heard of what
Befell you, I have not shut my eyes in sleep,

7. Thus I am pushed to restlessness,
And at times I am turned to despair,

8. I pray and at times conceal my face supplicating
Upon the ground in the darkness of night,

9. And how could it not be so? For illness walks to
The one in whose hands is the cure for harm and illness,

10. To the noble one whom I have not seen
Look to any but the greatest of nobles,

11. He conducted himself with generosity to its highest meanings,
Yes, and they are most resolute, drawing the sword of his mouth,

12. Woe to you, O son of leaders, from the pain,
But no woe to the unjust people of ill repute,

13. A people who cast off manners and donned
The perverse inclinations of vileness and betrayal of trusts,

14. From every breeder of foolishness in his mind,
Empty of discernment, devoid of understanding,

15. It is as if, after his intelligence, he is an idol
From whom breathing is not known or expected,

16. You have continually drawn the train of munificence generously,
In an unmixed blessing from blessings,

17. Neither slumbered the meadow, nor did
The hands of pouring clouds clad in mist disturb its expanse.