1. يا بْنَ من شابَ في ممارسةِ الكَع

    كِ على أخذِه لها في الشّبابِ

    O son of one who grew gray in handling cakes,

    though he took it up in his youth.

  2. قوّمَتْه في شُغلِه حسبُنا الل

    هُ مخافاتُ دِرّة الاحتسابِ

    He was set straight in his work—God suffices us—

    by fear of the market inspector's whip.

  3. فهو لا ينتقِيه إلا لُباباً

    وبَنوهُ موتى بحُبِّ اللُبابِ

    So he selects only the choicest morsels,

    and his sons are dying for love of the choicest morsels.

  4. فكأني بقدّه يحملُ التا

    جَ ولكنه منَ الأخشابِ

    So I seem to see his figure carrying a crown,

    but it is made of wood.

  5. ينظِمُ الكعكَ فيه نظمَكَ للسلْ

    كِ على لَبّةِ الفتاةِ الكعابِ

    He strings the cakes on it as you string a necklace

    at the throat of a budding-breasted maiden.

  6. وله مقعدٌ بقارعةِ السو

    قِ وثانٍ في ظلِّ واهٍ ببابِ

    He has a seat on the market's thoroughfare,

    and another in scant shade by a door.

  7. كلما أبصرَتْهُ لحيتُه البيْ

    ضاءُ داني الخرابِ تدعو الخَرابي

    Whenever his white beard sees him

    near ruin, it calls the male bustards.

  8. وتطوفُ الكلابُ إخوتُك السو

    قةُ من حولِه طَوافَ الكِلاب

    And the dogs—your brothers, the rabble—circle

    around him as dogs circle.

  9. فإذا ما بَدا لعينيهِ صيدٌ

    دخلوا لاقتناصِ من كلِّ باب

    Then, whenever prey appears before his eyes,

    they enter through every door to seize it.

  10. بين مُعطٍ قيادَه لطعامٍ

    ومولٍّ عِنانَه لشرابِ

    Some yield their reins for food,

    and others turn their bridles toward drink.

  11. وهو يشدوهُمُ من الطّربِ الخا

    رجِ عن حدّه الى الاضطرابِ

    And he sings to them in a rapture that goes

    beyond its bounds into agitation.

  12. لم يضيّقْ مخارجَ الرِّزْقِ قومٌ

    وسّعوا في مَداخِلِ الأربابِ

    No folk narrowed the outlets of sustenance

    who widened the entrances of the masters.

  13. ضمّ منه التُرابُ من لم يزلْ قطّ

    وما كان عائداً في التُرابِ

    In him, the dust embraced one who had never left it,

    and was not returning to the dust.

  14. فسقى التُربةَ الشريفةَ غيثٌ

    تجعلُ الوحلَ في هناءِ التُرابِ

    So may rain water the noble soil;

    you place mire amid the dust's bliss.