1. The time has pressed your tears to flow,
And why would flowing tears not ebb and flow?

2. You left at dawn, and every heart bewildered,
By your beauty, and every eye finds its spectacle and show.

3. Bliss sculpted her body anew,
And bliss is ever sculpting and will continue so.

4. The first signs of grey appeared in my temples,
Grey hair being unforgivable impudence and woe.

5. It’s said a thing grows used to its form,
Yet the white recoils from the parting blow.

6. Do not be insistent, for everything has its place,
And custom in some places can be censured low.

7. Grey is the morn, and blackness the dark of night,
And night is best for union and to hide the inner glow.

8. We blamed our parting on the raven, blacker than black,
But lo, the grey is the most raven-hued crow.

9. How can I come to you in the dark of night,
When you have made the moon-lit night your wardrobe and trousseau?

10. The waning moon wanes away,
While the crescent of your cheek waxes nightly with its graceful bow.

11. A full moon leaving its quarter in its scent,
Presenting its gift like fine ambergris musk on the go.

12. You camp in the open desert, fortified,
With green tents and screeching clamor of warriors, mailed and armored beaux.

13. He has grown used to our eyes through his love,
As if our eyes are armies under his command and control.

14. The hearts of those passion-possessed disobey their lords,
Subject to their passions, each one pulled along in tow.

15. As if, from (Ali's son) Hyder's auspice, he borrowed victory,
And so he vanquishes hearts - his triumph certain and foretold.

16. Or from his own majesty he borrowed his beauty,
Which leaves our eyes shifting, confounded and distraught at his manly glow.

17. A kingdom he possesses in every land,
And every battlefield resounds with his feats maintained and extolled.

18. To his sword, in every foe, a cleaving blow,
To his lance, into every chest a destined goal.

19. Girded with two swords - of wisdom and steel,
One hidden from sight and one visible, brandished brave and bold.

20. Molded by the hand of Hyder ibn Yammal,
From it doom and destiny will flow.

21. His brow a full moon, and his chest a open plain,
His palm-trees oceans running long and uncontrolled.

22. When the villain scowls in his presence,
His face is bright as water washed pure, cleansed of heathen mold.

23. Smooth as a sword's blade, except
On both sides, with gentle kindness and charm, his manner he'll fold.

24. You'd think when his enemies saw him alone,
They saw a whole army, horses prancing unrestrained and cajoled.

25. How often he stopped advancing armies single-handedly,
As multitudes bottlenecked in the narrow lane and passageway tolled.

26. Over him the spears and trumpets,
Layered darker than darker in status manifold.

27. The rough ground sheds its cloak and is clad
In fine dress, as mountains dawn their brilliant gold.

28. The desert sand divides in two halves beneath his tread,
One half on which he walks, the other half to bless and uphold.

29. If you wish the supporters of the Holy Sanctuary, call upon him!
The horses stumble over the rugged valley in the battle bold.

30. As if the valley of his combat were a crucible
And the horsemen champions refined jewels and gold.

31. In each limb, an observant heart he has,
A devoted heart and watching eye their tireless roles extolled.

32. What his hands contain and encompass for generosity!
Glory lies in what modesty hides and what is publicly told.

33. The Imam is thankful to you as he ought,
And God is pleased with you and thanks you manifold.

34. I wished to beg the rainclouds after you,
But your hand is raincloud enough, bursting, raining uncontrolled.

35. You have granted me blessings without prior merit,
So in gratitude I come to you this poor poem to have and hold.

36. You planted in me a gift that bore fruit for you,
The giver precedes and succeeds every deed as foretold.

37. Damascus flared up in the beauty of its meadows,
When you were there, fortunate and blessings untold.

38. Its darkness is dawn, the beauty of its lights pearls,
Its soil is perfume and saffron purple and gold.

39. You are the spring - how can any land live
Until graced by your presence, soft spring rains cajoling fold.

40. You gave abundantly then reduced your giving - but one
Who gives precious gifts gives ever more and manifold.

41. O you whose cry is the best of good counsel -
It is no shame that this ocean bore this pearl.

42. By his counsel the Imam preferred you over all people,
He whose actions precede, this cannot be controlled.