1. We have a friend, though no true friend is he,
A worthless man who feigns prosperity,

2. Among the ugliest of men, none can deny,
Of those who are, and those who are to be.

3. When his face is seen by a gathering,
Their eyes take cover beneath their lids.

4. As though he were a foe they were cradling,
On him their debts and wrongs they did.

5. Yet he, as I described him, still appears
Suspected, his affection insincere.

6. His mother and father he did betray,
So sadness cloaks his devious eyes.

7. A heretic, indulging blasphemy,
Whose inner thoughts belie his courtesy.

8. Shall I reject his views, for I disdain
This man, though quietly I contain?

9. If I believed him true in his creed,
I would not serve my Lord as He decreed.

10. O Ibn Hurayth, does life in you still linger?
That I may hide from men what I make clear.