هجَوتُكَ لا حاجَةً لي إِلَي

هجَوتُكَ لا حاجَةً لي إِلَي

كَ شهرتُ لَها قَدرَكَ المُهمَلا

كَ شهرتُ لَها قَدرَكَ المُهمَلا

I lampooned you—not out of any need I had for

Your satire, I have no need for

you, for which I made your neglected standing known.

My fame, insignificant to it

ولَكِن تغرَّبَ شِعري عَليَّ

ولَكِن تغرَّبَ شِعري عَليَّ

وَتاهَ فأحبَبتُ أَن يَخجَلا

وَتاهَ فأحبَبتُ أَن يَخجَلا

But my verse grew estranged from me

But my poetry has grown strange to me

and swaggered, so I wanted it to feel ashamed.

And gone astray, so I wished it ashamed

فَتِه يا ابنَ نَصرٍ عَلى سالِفَيكَ

فَتِه يا ابنَ نَصرٍ عَلى سالِفَيكَ

فقَد صارَ آخرُكُم أوَّلا

فقَد صارَ آخرُكُم أوَّلا

So swagger, O son of Nasr, over your two forebears:

Wander, O son of Nasr, over your ancestors

for the last of you has become first.

For the last of you has become the first