1. يُقَصِّرُ ما لي في الحَوادِثِ عَن بَذلي

    فَما عُذرُ دَهرٍ لا يَجودُ عَلى مِثلي

    My means, amid misfortunes, fall short of my giving.

    Then what excuse has fate for not giving generously to one like me?

  2. رَمَتني رِجالٌ بِالوَعيدِ كَأَنَّما

    تَرومُ مَرامي أَو تُنازِعُني فَضلي

    Men have assailed me with threats, as though

    They sought my goal or vied with me for my excellence.

  3. وَقَد أَمِنوا أَن يَمنَعَ السَّبَّ مِن فَمي

    فَهَل أَمِنوا أَن يَمنَعَ الضَربَ مِن نَصلي

    And they are sure that abuse will be kept from my mouth;

    But are they sure that blows will be kept from my blade?

  4. وَيَحسَبُني دَهري أَرومُ عَطاءَهُ

    فَيوسِعُني قَبلَ السُّؤالِ مِنَ البُخلِ

    And my fate imagines that I seek its bounty,

    So it lavishes stinginess on me before I ask.

  5. وَهَل كُنتُ أَرضى أَن أَنالَ حُطامَهُ

    وَأَعلَمُ أَنَّ الحَظَّ فيهِ مَعَ الجَهلِ

    And would I ever be content to gain its worldly scraps,

    While knowing that good fortune there goes with ignorance?

  6. أَنِفتُ مِنَ الدُّنيا فَما طَلَبَت يَدي

    وَلا طَمِعَت نَفسي وَلا وَخَدَت إِبلي

    I scorned the world, so my hand never sought it,

    Nor did my soul covet it, nor did my camels hasten.

  7. وَمَن كانَ في بَردِ القَناعَةِ رافِلاً

    أَصابَ الغِنى في الفَقرِ وَالخِصبَ في المَحلِ

    And whoever walks proudly in contentment's cloak

    Finds wealth in poverty and plenty in drought.

  8. أُلامُ إِذا ما ناوَشَ الدَّهرُ جانِبي

    وَأَيُّ حُسامٍ لا يُحادِثُ بِالصَّقلِ

    I am blamed whenever fate assails my flank,

    And what keen sword is not renewed by polishing?

  9. وَما هوَ في ما بَينَنا مِن ضَغِينَةٍ

    بِمُطَّرِحٍ قَولي وَلا جاهِل فِعلي

    And, despite the rancor between us, it does not

    Dismiss my words, nor is it ignorant of my deeds.

  10. وَكُنتُ أمَني النَّفسَ بَنداً مِنَ الغِنى

    يُحَسِّن معروفي وَيوسِعُ في بَذلي

    And I used to promise my soul a banner of wealth,

    That would enhance my good deeds and broaden my giving.

  11. فَأَمّا وَقَد فارَقتُ آلَ عُذَيبَةٍ

    فَلا خَيرَ في حزنٍ مِنَ العَيشِ أَو سَهلِ

    But now that I have parted from the house of ʿUdhayba,

    There is no good in life's rough ground or level plain.

  12. أَلا إِنَّما وَارَيتِ يا أُمَّ عامِرٍ

    عُهودَ الصِّبا بَينَ الصَّفائِحِ وَالرَّملِ

    Ah, you have buried, O Umm ʿAmir, nothing but

    The days of youth between the stone slabs and the sand.