1. With what tongue in gatherings shall I speak,
And with what melody in praising you shall I write,

2. And from which aspects of virtue shall I begin,
And how can virtue from you be counted and reckoned,

3. And if to my heart you were beloved,
Then to all hearts you are beloved,

4. Do you not know, my Master, that my poetry
Is indebted to you in all that it expresses,

5. Thus you see it, if it seeks to praise you,
It wanders and revels in metaphors and rapture,

6. But soon it recoils, with its cheeks
Blushing red in embarrassment,

7. So gently chide it when I know its incapacity,
And it will incline to me with guidance and reproach,

8. Saying, you show me a star in the expanse of the heavens,
Beaming continuously, never setting,

9. And oblige me to describe it fully,
Is not the sun's rays the veil of meteors?

10. Yes between us is vast distance, and nearness to it
Though with humility on my part it comes closer,

11. But we avert our eyes from it in awe
When nearing, though it has the right of approach,

12. The attributes of Glory are the possession of the King,
While names and epithets belong to others,

13. In the abode of the Beni Mozar, where he dwells,
A dweller, and the meadow of virtue is green from them.

14. My Master, how many free bounties do you have
By which my life remains fertile,

15. When the poets praise you, it is but
Praise to them - that pleasing praise,

16. Is there anyone in the world unique and refined,
With whom poetry, itself unique and refined, praises?

17. Other than you, to whom time has bowed its head,
Its text to you, and praise belongs to God carriage,

18. And none but the Most Merciful, Majestic His Majesty,
Will reward me for that which you seek,

19. To Him I raise my palms in supplication, He
Hears the prayer, and to His servant He is nearer,