1. No reproach ever stained a gift from one who gives
To him who rails, as fate allots, he'll ne'er succeed

2. Would that I gained some part of what another won
And that I served as chamberlain tomorrow morn

3. Too much men blame or flatter gifts and place
Till praise and blame alike seem trite and worn

4. No blame can touch the giver like the blame
That memory brings, nor envy wound like scorn

5. O Wahb, heed not those who blame your gifts
For you're a rain that rumbles ere the morn

6. Small faults in great men still get counted wrong
While graver faults in small men go unmourned

7. Look at Ahmad, steward of the army, say
Has anyone reviled or shamed that lord?

8. A man gets shamed as long as he's ashamed
But he whom shame has left, none can shame with words