1. For the reciters of my poetry from among my eulogists
Every Friday morning there is a tumult

2. Like the clamor of pilgrim voices when
The day passes and nightfall arrives

3. With eloquence that waters its springs
So its continual flow is everlasting

4. When they understand what wisdom I have imparted
The ignorant submit and the virtuous acquiesce

5. It rides the high seas on four legs
Neither soft nor sandy is its gait

6. Parching the waterless desert, neither
Grassy nor verdant its abode

7. It carries to hearing that which it bears
Reaching them through guile ever gentle

8. Bearing polished, subtle eulogy
The sea in its raiment, the mountain in its mantle

9. By night and morn, enemies and camels
Fear its swords

10. Remaining vigilant if drawn
The mighty warriors and the brave

11. The two blades—when sheathed their safety
By day the eyelid closes and the scabbard rests

12. A rain of bounty, copious, not run dry
Nor stale nor stagnant its downpour

13. If it rained at a desolate place
It would clothe it in greens and blessings

14. Complaining of the generosity of his weapons
Fearing his domination the ignoble coward

15. By his view and the inspiration of his thoughts
The blades are white, the spears faded

16. Clothing him in the perfection of his piety
A breastplate without gaps its armor

17. Deflecting the stray arrows of calamitous news
Whenever disasters are proclaimed

18. The crown of kings is the youth of generosity
When winter departs and paths are cut off

19. A rend that when its calamities pour down
Generosity pours forth and bees pour down

20. They pass down the legacy of his generosity
As if they neither lacked nor fell short

21. The sun of his high station never ceases shining
Its brilliance untouched by decline