1. Spare your arrows, for you have struck down my warriors,
And lower your eyelids, for you have known your contenders.

2. The soul of the slain did not deny its wounds,
Rather, it denied out of anger the face of the killer.

3. You are the beloved in his eyes, so when the face
Of morning appears, you are the pupil of the censurer.

4. And I have been granted enough censure in you due to a trait
That irritated the glance of the coquettish and pretentious.

5. When you censure, you have not gained a listener,
And when you are heard, you have not gained a speaker.

6. I do not complain of a time whose circumstances shift,
For how much complaining is there of a tilted rod?

7. I thanked it on the day of flowing plenty,
And I blame it after a time of pouring rain.

8. It did not raise my gaze or lower it -
The cheer of the generous or the frown of the miser.

9. And I protect my hopes, guarding one who sees
The path of the hopeful, not the thanks of the hopeful.

10. As for the breast of religion being the outlet of its ardors,
Upon it is the origin with the sight of one who draws water.

11. And if you attain its opinion and its piety,
Your purpose in it secures you from the laziness of the indolent.

12. You tied its intention like one who settles,
Its traits tie the intention of one who departs.

13. I sensed a light from the majesty of its face
That adorned the blemish of every idle day.

14. That white hand, except that it
Stupefied me with Babylonian magic from its potency.

15. So I remained from it in the shelters of passions
Until my soul was restored in the shades of my tribe.

16. It came with the complaint of every astonishing meaning
And arrived with the thorns of every formidable utterance.

17. I recited it, rather I feared it, so I recited it,
And betrayal exists at the tears of one who laments.