1. They blamed me, yet I did not withhold praise,
For withholding praise is disgraceful,

2. Except withholding goodness is ignoble.
I longed for you though you were aloof,

3. Yet no beauty is truly out of reach.
The lover finds solace in the intimations of his heart,

4. For hearts spy on hearts.
The sweetest reverie is a fleeting visit -

5. Now veiled, now seen.
They said "You were miserly!" but I was not;

6. Praise of beauty in aloofness is precious.
The meanings of miserliness were erased by the blessed Ahmed,

7. Who came with the law of generosity in his right hand.
We used to see their names in the past,

8. And tomorrow we will see how generosity can be!
With it Egypt was distinguished above Baghdad

9. When it was, and Harun was in its palace.
He saw wealth before him as a tumultuous sea,

10. So his fingers became ships sailing on it.
While the people were shackled by poverty,

11. Turning over their palms,
His brother was drowned in the bliss of wealth,

12. This one groaning in pain, that drunk with music.
Say to those who hoard their treasures:

13. "What was Korah after his treasures?"
They refused to help the weak, and maybe

14. They served beasts while madness has its arts.
Their palms turned to stone as if

15. They were rock, split yet unyielding.
Glory is the deadliest foe of degradation.

16. Have you not seen the well-fed and the lean?
They have gone astray while Ahmed calls them

17. Or after Ahmed zeal for virtues adorns.
The Niles in Egypt have flowed as water

18. While this is muddy and turbulent.
If the soul esteems virtues it will thrive

19. Like the earth watered, so clay comes alive.
O Ahmed you have loaned your Lord, while the poor

20. Groan under the burden of their creditors.
Fortune is greedy, with a pit

21. Where a million is as a thousand.
You have built from all consciences a dwelling

22. That will remain as long as the world is inhabited.
Like the sun in its heaven is your place,

23. While its rays are stored beneath the soil.
You have raised your voice for virtues openly,

24. Calling people, though it echoes at the ears of the deaf.
If the souls of its men have ruined the East,

25. There may be treasure buried underneath.
I used to be miserly with my poetry

26. Though I cherish the hidden pearl.
But you showed me your towering book of glory,

27. So it was right for my poems to be recorded.
Poetry that your light rain has watered,

28. As if images colored by hues.
None can match it, nor can olives

29. Thread with emeralds on a string.
The delusions of praisers multiplied,