لَقَد غَرَّني مِن جَعفَرٍ حُسنُ بابِهِ

لَقَد غَرَّني مِن جَعفَرٍ حُسنُ بابِهِ

وَلَم أَدرِ أَنَّ اللُؤمَ حَشوُ إِهابِهِ

وَلَم أَدرِ أَنَّ اللُؤمَ حَشوُ إِهابِهِ

The beauty of Jaʿfar’s door did indeed deceive me,

The door of Ja'far charmed me with its beauty

I was deceived by the beauty of Ja'far's gate,

and I did not know that baseness filled his hide.

Yet I knew not that baseness filled his cloak

And knew not that baseness was the stuffing of his hide;

فَلَستُ وَإِن أَخطَأتُ في مَدحِ جَعفَرٍ

فَلَستُ وَإِن أَخطَأتُ في مَدحِ جَعفَرٍ

بِأَوَّلِ إِنسانٍ خَري في ثِيابِهِ

بِأَوَّلِ إِنسانٍ خَري في ثِيابِهِ

So I am not—even if I erred in praising Jaʿfar—

If I erred in praising Ja'far

So if I erred in singing Ja'far's praise,

the first person to have shat in his clothes.

I'm not the first man to judge by the clothes

I am not the first man to shit in his clothes.