1. Grant us the balm of mentioning chief men,
We're folk who delight in such reasoning.

2. Repeat their tales, more and more narrate them,
In their tales lies healing for him ailing.

3. Mix our water with the scent of praising them,
Far sweeter thus than ginger's pleasant smell.

4. How mellow is discourse's wine about them!
On them, O beauty, descend such praises fair.

5. Hearts forget all else, enamored of their mention,
The burden of passion for them is weighty and real.

6. Clink the goblet, O slow pacers of mounts,
With their songs, hymns, and then get set to move on.

7. And when the camel train halts to rest at times,
Name them, and say "Offload it," when told to shoulder.

8. To leave them, though passionate love pulls to stay,
Is why hearts get pierced, and what cures them.

9. Would that-if not real- fantasies might allow,
That I join dear ones in a true gathering's place.

10. And healing my anguished heart and grieving soul,
God can do all things, in Him is my hope.