تُقَهْقِهُ عندَ رؤيتِه الثّكالَى

تُقَهْقِهُ عندَ رؤيتِه الثّكالَى

ويضْحَكُ منْهُ معْتادُ العُبوسِ

ويضْحَكُ منْهُ معْتادُ العُبوسِ

Bereaved mothers laugh aloud at the sight of him,

He giggles at the sight of widows

And the habitual frowner laughs at him.

And the ever-frowning one laughs at him

فقَرْنٌ منْ نُظارِ العاجِ سلْمٌ

فقَرْنٌ منْ نُظارِ العاجِ سلْمٌ

ووجْهٌ منْ لُبابِ الأبُنوسِ

ووجْهٌ منْ لُبابِ الأبُنوسِ

For Salm is a horn of the finest ivory,

So a pair of ivory binoculars is a staircase

And a face of ebony’s heartwood.

And a face of dried mud is submission