1. Let me alone when foes clash and crowd me amid contending chieftains,
And leave me to my ordeal and my verity that secures the prophecy of the vile soothsayer.

2. O son of Bohran, you have not escaped misfortune though for your good,
but for a great evil,

3. Had you followed the foremost, gone from martyr to martyr, to the gardens of bliss,
It would have been better than remaining for my war, but your grandsire's ill-omenedness refused,

4. And though the fortunes of a people do not become propitious, why then do the inauspicious stars run their course?
I am he to whom mankind and jinn altogether have submitted, willy-nilly and under duress,

5. Vast in clemency towards the penitent, and in my possession are vengeances that endure against the obdurate,
Tomorrow you shall know, when we meet for altercation amongst a company of the learned,

6. When I lay bare anklets that have remained hidden, and you disclose what is laughable and dejected.
O son of Bohran, how has arrogance misguided you that you know not the body of everything corporeal!

7. By my life, it seems you were created not from water but from the pouring of the abject.
Your mother's justice encompassed mankind until unfairness amongst them flowed like the injustice of Sodom,

8. If the men had seen anything precious in you, lusts for you on the part of foes would have multiplied.
How can we summon them to your ancestors, my dear friend, when amongst them are the likes of this bastard!

9. Every stallion is your father fairly, while Jesus had no father, like an orphan,
The earth is corrupted by the steps of Bohran, even if between Zamzam and the Black Stone,

10. Every part of her body has an orifice craving adultery, insistently like a debtor.
The most outrageous calumny and lampooning of Bohran is pure like the stoning of the stoned,

11. How is it that the sky does not collapse upon the earth, so that for her sake we are stoned!
The sins of Bohran have multiplied until pardon by the All-Forgiving, Most Merciful is too narrow for her,

12. Lewdness and debauchery have overcome him. What a people, fit for an effeminate sheikh!
She has humiliated his nose, so how could she then divert him like one whose nose is cut off,

13. When he is submissive in his indulgence of her, he says: “It is not my habit to cast off cares.”
The sheikh is content with what God has ordained, so he resigns himself to acquiescence,

14. Except that the batting of an eye did not elude him with immorality or secret adultery,
But with the dreamy languor of an easy-going, felicitous soul, and pleasantness from a munificent, generous spirit,

15. If she had obeyed as she rebelled she would have deserved intimacy with God, apart from Abraham.
I have no lampooning of Bohran, except transmitting what has been scattered into verse,

16. And all my ideas are following, not innovating, and knowledge is through instruction.
She lays the eggs and I brood over them as imam and congregation,

17. I do not make poetry march through her hindparts and thickets,
She guides better than rhymes and travels on the darkest nights and hillsides,

18. The daytime and night bear it constantly, plying the awl after the needle.
No place leaves another place empty, it is a special something, like the generality,

19. Taking its time over its menstruation, then committing adultery in the sanctuaries, obedient to the accursed one.
She is the phantom of imagination assailing people on earth, both settled and nomadic,

20. By night she is everyone you see embodied in the darkness like vermin,
She does not grow weary of knee-slapping or riding cock-a-doodle at daybreak over her shoulder blades,

21. Some contrary to chaste Mary - so when she resisted her with resolve and censure,
She persisted in fornication, propagating sedition, and in her eyes the chaste is like the barren.

22. A cunt whose aperture is wide, commonplace, not limited,
Into which the blind grope to string necklaces, and sightless moles view as though in the gloom,

23. A bifid mould with layers for credible witnesses made of heaped mud,
Which could hold the seven climes completely, while it is two fingers of one clime,

24. Like the heart's consciousness it devours the world and two lips of a mouth contain it,
Buzzing around like a bee, but in her perception it is like hellfire,

25. And the cure for fever is difficult when the belly of the feverish sick conceals it,
O you who crucify `Umayra publicly, may you never lack darkness deeper than the dark!

26. How weak you are while the quim of Bohran is stationed over the wayfarer and dispossessed,
With a slit like a camel's, of ample breadth, not buttoned up!

27. I see that you will offer excuses and arguments silencing every opponent,
Saying: "Who hopes to ride the sea, especially its stormy main?"

28. O you who call me feeble, many a gaming arrow such as I receive is a prize like spoils of war,
There is a rear guard between your attaining me and my inaccessible nuptial.

29. Do not leave me - old age ringing success against you with regret or wheedling,
In the path of Satan is my portion from you, and on you be the gracious pleasaunce of the blaming son.

30. And congratulations to your two quims, congratulations! They have gained my penis without an associate,
Formerly they were led astray by you, but now they have your known beverage to imbibe.

31. The daughters of Bohran have given me suchlength that they have rendered me sterile whereas I was fertile before,
The people suffered terrible evil from their fornication, so they are between scorching hot and sickly.

32. They have eaten cunts like beasts of prey and drunk semen like wild animals,
Raising their legs at night, they call down evil upon modest people with imprecation.

33. Cunts taking commands of two Masters in one command, the act of the tireless debauchee,
Surely He who created the pubes made it depilated, and cast it from their blood and viscera,

34. So it courses in them and penetrates them however their spirits course through their bodies.
God has removed a stallion's jealousy from him, so he is whatever you wish of an unblemished heart,

35. Bees filter stings in his bile, clarified of motes and gnats,
Except that the virile youth takes pleasure in his two wives, over every breeder swift as lightning.

36. A stupid, slobbering, useless mule walking unsteadily, then dozing - such are shreds of his flesh from shreds -
Asking after the hymen on the night of deflowering, while between her singing-girls and vineyards,

37. He spent the night with a ruptured hymen that spurns him among the dregs
Sought by one submerged in its oozing, like a doctor probing the diseased gums,

38. Whenever he stirred vigorously, goading his sluggishness to the throat,
He bolts down one draft after another mounting up from his muddy ejaculation.

39. O brother of grammar and foremost in it, why didn't you see the l merged with the m?
Other than the l I merged in your m, then made a false claim, O calamitous son!

40. When you recited in the assembly of notables: “Good news for the deaf and dumb”
What stench and vile speech - may they be absent! God forbid such from the Wise Book.

41. How does not the Fire burn the son of Bohran with that vile breath?
By God, if the name were made the named, every paradise would become like birch!

42. You were deluded by the two scabby herders, woe unto you from me as I poison you with painful poison!
When you diminished me on account of your mange-infested head inanity, you defamed one who cannot be defamed.

43. You transgressed not when you described me as pock-marked, mangy and snake-like,
Mangy as if the space between my shoulders were torches for every dark night,

44. My breast throbbing and creeping into the Vagus nerve and congealing in the veins of toxins,
And in times past people had not experienced before me the heavy burden upon nimble camels,

45. Consider that the feeblest of birds is the hoopoe among birds, and the weakest of us is the owls,
Then you attempted with the burnisher to make me small, but you increased me only in glorification,

46. Like one who brandishes the meteor to conceal it when it is closest to him for incineration.
Even if she is labelled one of the deviants, the matter remains unsettled,

47. You don't care that amidst your parsimony these verses will settle for me a dwelling and companionship,
Words not objectionable to the ear, but objectionable when smelt.

48. They did not seep into the hole of my ear, but flew like the downpour of camphor into the nose!
O son of Bohran you have been shaded by blame like the mentioned smoke in the zealotry,

49. O son of Bohran, there is no escape from God and His ineluctable foreordainment.
It seems to me you thought my censure of you would remain a durable building,

50. So you overlooked it fearing that 'Erm would become devastated from it, consenting to the plan of the debased weakling.
But look, the matter is beyond what you supposed, and certainty is not like guesswork.

51. The evils of rhyme have assaulted your hearing with a blow that has left you confounded like a congregation,
So you have recoiled taking up the position of one with mange, confused whether to delay or hasten,

52. You stand guaranteeing by your own neck or rationing, bewildered in perplexity,
One moment, then you said: “Destruction is annihilated,” so assuage my rage and complete my worries!

53. By my life, you are blind to propriety and the aim of straight argument.
The compressing of bile ducts are not like the compressing of bile ducts atop bile ducts!

54. Verily, criticisms I have directed at you, O son of Bohran, are more painful than excruciating torment,
This is not my precedent of you forbearing ribaldry in times of yore,

55. We never knew you except disdainful of humiliations, violating the inviolable.
You don't care who fucks your mother openly, whether enemy or dear friend,

56. Are you pleased with him fucking her yet objecting to her being reviled, O straying forbearance of the forebearing!
Consider where is he who makes public insults against his mother, other than one who is insulted.

57. Yet I have toughened your hide so that you toss about - you are not to be blamed,
You have the excuse not to sleep, by my life, I am too awesome for the safe to sleep!

58. O son of Bohran, if you dared with it I would not join a m with a m,
I wanted to incorporate into it youthfulness, but I had no escape with the m,

59. God will not see me lampoon you, by my life, you are to me in the state of the deceased,
The rhymes are occupied in describing your mother, O son of Bohran, apart from depictions.