1. The gallant cast a glance, unreturned,
His eyes darting, no reproach could deter,

2. He saw the caravans like stars revealed,
When the darkness of night began to stir,

3. Date palms barely held by their trunks,
Swaying gently as the breezes concur,

4. Blame is like the dawn that uncovered you,
With its soft light pouring over you demur,

5. And saying how can one like you incline to youth,
When the traits of forbearance your visage confer,

6. And gray hair rising in the blackness as though,
A night shouting with the day on either spur,

7. Indeed youth profits he who sells it,
While gray hair no commerce accrues for its broker,

8. O son of Maragha, you are the lowest of those who tread,
And the weakest whose claws the lions deter,

9. When you recall your father or his days,
It shames you where even rocks are preferred,

10. Maragha has dragged its hills,
Where the arena is the toil of the ignoble cur,

11. You are the sediment of each vile outpouring,
And for every repelling the oozing spur,

12. I have clouded you with censure and pebbles,
While noble deeds for their doers banners unfurl,

13. I have turned upon you a bitter war,
For wars are bitter elixirs that stir,

14. A war where your mother cannot save a fugitive,
Even if he takes to flight on ostrich or spur,

15. I will proudly surpass you in a boast,
Great vessels poured upon you in my confer,

16. A noble lineage raises me above you indeed,
Honorable for them, of glorious register.