1. Your letter has reached me, the one
In which you threatened misguidance and impudence

2. And were it not for your father’s lowly status
Your poetry would have been mere nonsense

3. But you have inherited from the wretched ones
A crude mind and despicable opinion

4. His daughter ordained you to copulate with her
And his blossom refused you, to disgrace you

5. The truest resemblance you held
Was when a mule got sick or died in you

6. Except your ugliness is from the imminent
Torment upon those who married you

7. So tell me, o degenerate, why have you not
Returned from whence you came, hastily retreating

8. And why has none of his sins persisted in you
To consume you, o vilest of the vile

9. And how can you aspire to any feat
When your mother is an old prostitute of your father