ويْحwoe to الكِتابَةwriting مِنat the hands of شَيْخٍan old man هَبنَّقَةٍHabannaqa (a proverbial fool)
ويْح الكِتابَة مِن شَيْخٍ هَبنَّقَةٍ
يلْقَىmeets العُيُونthe eyes برأَسٍwith a head مُخْهُhis brain رارُthin and runny
يلْقَى العُيُون برأَسٍ مُخْهُ رارُ
Woe to writing at the hands of an old man—a Habannaqa!
Alas for the scribbling of a feeble old man
He meets the gaze with a head whose brain is runny;
Whose bleary eyes see but the mists before them
ومُنْتِنِand foul-smelling الرِّيحِthe breath إِنْif نَاجَيتَهُyou speak privately with him أَبداًever
ومُنْتِنِ الرِّيحِ إِنْ نَاجَيتَهُ أَبداً
كأَنَّماas though ماتdied فيin خَيْشُومِهِhis nasal passage فارُa mouse
كأَنَّما مات في خَيْشُومِهِ فارُ
And he is foul of breath if ever you speak privately with him,
And whose rancid breath, if conversed with at all
As though a mouse had died inside his nose.
Is like the last gasps of a rat up his nostril
Sol 6.1