1. Apollo, welcome, O Apollo
For you are from Ukaz, the poetry's shade

2. Ukaz, and you are for the eloquent a market
Upon its sides they pitched their tents and lodged

3. A fountain of beautiful reciting
The echo of the cultivated with it is little

4. And a racecourse leading to rhymes
Its racers, when the poets speak

5. He says poetry orderly
And excels when he makes much or little

6. And were it not for the excellent everywhere
No nations would prevail or become independent

7. May you bring us some Mu’allaqat
We walk with it on the ancient softly

8. Maybe talents hidden were lost
Broadcast through you and exploited

9. Your leaves gilded margins
Were brought up on roses or more beautiful

10. The gardens’ fragrances one would be fed up of
Yet the scent of talents is never tiring

11. The genius of poetry in it paves the way
For every treasure in it a place

12. Truth is not diminished in it
Nor chastity in it made licit

13. It is no place for critic’s abuse
Beyond his pasture envy and rancor