1. Congratulations on a feast, you who witness its day
For you are, in the prime of virtues, its feast

2. You have grasped the noblest of glories, soaring
To a peak, whose heights make stout men quail

3. A cross on the ineloquence of time and its wiles
When elegies for the epoch turn timid, their odes awry

4. Poetry in you is ever exquisite to me
Its verses in gatherings fragmented, its anthems sanctified

5. So every Zaynab-esque rhyme I have crafted
The living transmitters acknowledge, I have mastered its art