1. The fair one reproached me though blameless was my wrath
An emigrant, though no crime had I wrought

2. She said: will you not desist, still hopeful
Wandering evilly about love?

3. Nay, by their bloody hands
In her reason at the caravan's halting-places

4. Never did I claim your love, nor held
Other than your love in my heart

5. Said she: maybe some words that sicken him
When his inner self was blameless of reproach

6. Verily time has shot its accidents
Aiming at youth with grey arrowheads

7. So I remained, anguished for her love
Bitterly intimate, hating the proximity

8. After I had been such a valiant knight
As a supple, moist rod of springing wood

9. So when a wanton eye saw me
It said to its glance's guide “enough!”

10. “O friend, time has made me” she said
“That which you see, a rind on a stick

11. It has not ceased tempting me with its accidents
And increasing my adversity upon adversity

12. Until it leaves me as you see me
A broken reed with severed knots

13. I am of the folk by whom fell
Quraysh upon Bani Kaab

14. Patience, when time afflicts them
And most generous when ruinous the drought

15. Theirs is the inheritance of all magnanimity
And in them hangs the prayer of hardship

16. And when there is a melee, forming squadrons
And the furies of the fearsome theatre rise high

17. They don coats of mail against its stabs and blows
Until their vengeance heals them in the field of war

18. And their steeds return with each brave knight
Who disobeys the towering angry rods

19. Bitter when his rage attains its zeal
Sweetly pleased when peaceable his wont”