1. Do not blame the despicable scoundrel when he does wrong,
Be patient with bitterness and injury.

2. For many a reproach benefits naught but rancor,
Or humiliates noble souls, so they are debased.

3. No blame save for time, which has rebelled
Until it summoned ignoble men to lead.

4. Curse this time, that if I summoned it to trial
It would rightly be a bankrupt's son.

5. A time that delays every proud master
And promotes fools to be pretentious.

6. A time wherein the black are humiliated, and wherein
The dogs are emboldened, impudent and watchful.

7. A time that built the house of perfection on the brink
Of ravines, and founded and established the house of deficiency.

8. A time when all knowledge disowns it,
Do you not see the banner of sciences overturned?

9. Do you not see one who was the best adorned
Has become afflicted with calamities by night?

10. Do you see how he humbled himself in his speech
Until I see you, after years, revered?

11. The villain meets him smiling
Until, meeting the noble, he scowls.

12. A time that invites me to meet the face of one
Whose spit the vast sea would pollute.

13. If but a speck of a mangy dog's dung
Were weighed against him, it would be nobler and finer.

14. The dawn of birth would not greet in good humor
One who later sought to sneeze like him.

15. And many a day have I traversed endless wastes,
Seeking wildly and wandering wretchedly,

16. Through desolate, confusing wilds where the lost
Wander, and the bewildered wander confused,

17. Which the violent winds have disturbed, so that ofttimes
The landmarks beneath them are erased.

18. I began asking about him, every ugly
Disheveled, unkempt figure of vile form.

19. Until I reached his house - I did not greet it
With a roof's shade, nor spacious, splendid rooms.

20. I saw a house I do not doubt
Is a house of solitude for one who would breathe free,

21. Proven by the fact that beetles swore
Never to leave its courtyard filthy.

22. And rats raced in his courtyards
As packs diverse in multitude and breed.

23. Therein spiders oft pitched their tents
Or spun webs until covered and concealed.

24. They wove ragged patchwork cloaks for him
As though weaving silken satin fabrics for him.

25. A house filled with bugs and sorrows that
Make jinn refrain from sitting therein.

26. It adjoins tombs, and none who deserves, if he dies,
To have his memory preserved, resides therein.

27. The flies therein have diverse colors
Some spotted, some blue, veiling the sun, or

28. Filling the air, though it longed to bask in sunlight,
And pink damselflies flocked to it in hordes

29. Nearly moving above garbage heaps
Where it had settled and nearly died.

30. More rightfully than its people it should perish
And more deservingly than them it should be buried.

31. Fleas therein nearly grazed the soil in their hunger
Or the deaf cicada, so famished.

32. They leap from each body like vigilant
Leopards, and cling to clothes like limpets.

33. Their leaping has the grace of leopards
And their stillness the watchfulness of lions.

34. The Persian ants have become therein
Prouder than the hissing lizards and horses.

35. Black scorpions brandish swords
With red deaths sheathed in them.

36. And centipedes shake cyan lances
With which they pierce smooth iron.

37. A house of malice with neither summer nor winter,
Which, like the dawn, gathers no light.

38. A house, if the universe were too narrow for it,
No man would desire to befriend.

39. If summoned by Solomon it would not serve him,
And rightly he would imprison it.

40. And indeed I say, having visited its courtyard
And witnessed these cultivated habits:

41. Why do the dogs growl to guard it
If not a pig, what guards it?

42. So I came to him, and before my mount a servant
Named Cackles or Filth greeted me,

43. And invited him to come to me. He approached
Feeling his way, restless and zealous.

44. He hurried to me wearing a gown
In the gait of a recalcitrant dog wearing a gown.

45. So from behind the veil I discerned everything
His fiendish soul within him had tempted.

46. Treachery that if but a speck of it
Tested the dawn, it would revert to ignorance.

47. If damned Iblis himself came to him
And saw the snares of his treachery, he would be wary.

48. Until I appeared before his face, and saw him
Devising, estimating, then acting corruptedly,

49. Straying, misleading, sinning, then conscienceless.
And I hoped for his immoral, false promise,

50. And saw the night of betrayal grow long and murky
Until I despaired of the dawn, for if it

51. Were alive, it would have breathed.
For villainy, that it have lasting

52. Fame among people, never shall be.
I clothed him in the shame of blame and censure

53. As if he wore garments of praise.
Like one hoping for reward from a traitor -

54. The hope for reward from hellfire kindled.
The obstinate fool hopes in his ignorance for a

55. Gift from me that would smooth his grim face.
So I will leave him today as spiteful gossip

56. Elevated among the people as a bell ringer.
Pitiful is enmity towards a poet

57. Who has drained the drafts of the arts.
Do poets not wield a cutting sword,

58. Vanquishing necks and smiting heads?
I have, in coins of mean censure, riches

59. That if spent would not diminish and be depleted.
And the branches of my slender pens, since they thrived

60. In the garden of Tarsh, have been honed.
They are watered with a water whose like

61. Has never been used, so their roots flourish.
A necklace that if I breathed upon with charm

62. Solomon's brother would seek its protection.
They believe it a necklace that unties sorrows

63. And breathes relief to captive souls.
Keen of perception, never tiring for one honored -

64. Rather, the heart for it does not harden.
You forget eloquence for his incoherent chatter

65. Deeming speechless one who has not yet spoken.
It takes black ink as its raiment

66. So it deserved to be honored and breathed free.
And whitest vellum became its resting place,

67. And so deserved to be exalted and prized.
That which belongs to the loyal

68. And to enemies continues a foe.
I shielded it from the blame of a wicked sinner

69. Lest they say I lambasted a righteous man.
Your registers of rhythm insult with his mention,

70. Which nearly cannot be touched.
And the vulgar is restrained if his vile nature

71. Vents but some of what was stamped upon him.
He who hopes for reward from a stubborn soul

72. Will soon weary and despair.
And he who wears betrayal where he finds

73. Nothing but disgrace to clothe him.
The obstinate are engrossed in deceit just as

74. The flies are engrossed in the dung of cattle.
But the coiled serpent is the ugliest thing that frightens you

75. And the softest is what pleases you to touch.
How can one be honored among people

76. Who is uglier than an unlucky omen?
Does an origin prosper though it be uglier than a mote

77. That has no origin to be named and known?
The claim of one who cannot claim a tenth

78. Of a tribe is altered, and the pearl seems clay.
When his people named him Son of Malice,

79. Wrongly, though he was baser and filthier,
He opposed them and denied it, claiming lineage

80. Though he lied in his claim, artful.
He grew used to eating acorns until he deemed them

81. Sweeter than ripe dates and smoother.
If he fell ill, they described to him as a draft

82. Before sleep, dog piss he would gulp down,
And after that, his meal would be

83. What putrified, rotted, and decomposed.
O most despicable of miserable folk, until when

84. Does my hope excuse you - maybe, perhaps, if only?
You tasked me with composing satire, and it was not

85. My habit, but sorrow cannot be forgotten.
A singular gift came to you - if it had reached

86. Damned Iblis, O son of the most wicked, he would perish!
It matched your length, O stupid one, in its length

87. No, there is no comparison that reflects.
Its ornate eloquence is ornate

88. Though you are muddied and it pure.
But its meaning is gentler than the morning breeze

89. In subtlety, to one intimate with verse.
You insult the wafting of its perfume, as though

90. You insult the basil of maidens' gardens.
And when the likes of you offends me, it recites

91. "Do not blame the despicable scoundrel when he does wrong."