فَديتُ فَتىً ما زالَ ثاقِبُ فِكرِهِ

فَديتُ فَتىً ما زالَ ثاقِبُ فِكرِهِ

يُقَلّدُ دراً مِن نَفائِسِ نظمِهِ

يُقَلّدُ دراً مِن نَفائِسِ نظمِهِ

I would give my life for a youth whose keen thought has never ceased

I ransom a young man whose piercing intellect remains,

To string pearls from the treasures of his verse.

Who strings pearls of poetry with eloquence,

فَلا زالَ في كُلِّ الأُمورِ مُظَفَّراً

فَلا زالَ في كُلِّ الأُمورِ مُظَفَّراً

بِطولِ أَياديهِ وَصادِقِ عَزمِهِ

بِطولِ أَياديهِ وَصادِقِ عَزمِهِ

So may he remain victorious in every affair,

And in all matters remains ever triumphant,

Through his far-reaching bounty and sincere resolve.

With the length of his hands and his true determination,

أَجِدَّكَ ما تَنفَكُّ تُلغِزُ مُشكلاً

أَجِدَّكَ ما تَنفَكُّ تُلغِزُ مُشكلاً

تُقَصِّرُ أَلبابُ الوَرى دونَ فهمِهِ

تُقَصِّرُ أَلبابُ الوَرى دونَ فهمِهِ

Tell me in earnest: you never cease to pose a baffling riddle

I find you continually posing a riddle,

That the minds of humankind fall short of understanding.

Which the intellects of people fall short of grasping,

وَقَد ضاعَ مِن أَنفاسِ نظمِكَ نَفحَةٌ

وَقَد ضاعَ مِن أَنفاسِ نظمِكَ نَفحَةٌ

مِنَ المِسكِ فَاجعَلها فِداماً لِختمِهِ

مِنَ المِسكِ فَاجعَلها فِداماً لِختمِهِ

And from the breaths of your verse there has wafted a fragrance

And your breath of poetry gives off a fragrance,

Of musk—so make it a cloth stopper to seal it.

Of musk, so let it be a ransom for its final verse.