ضَيفُ البكَايِ إِذَا لَم يَكُن مَلَكَا

أو تَاجِراً فَاجِراً فَهبهُ قَد هَلَكَا

The guest of weeping, if he is not an angel

Or a merchant gone astray, is surely doomed

فَمَا يُرَى مُوقِداً لِلنَّارِ يُسعِرُهَا

يَوَّماً ولاَ فِي دُجَى لَيلٍ إِذَا حَلَكَا

He is not seen kindling a fire to inflame it

By day or in the dark night when it settles

فَلاَ بَشَاشَةً وَجهٍ قَدرَ قَولَةِ لاَ

ولاَ جَوَابَ سؤَالٍ أينَمَا سَلَكَا

No cheerfulness of face, worth a mere saying

No answer to a question wherever he walked

فَكُلُّ ضَيفٍ أيَا بَكَّاىُ مِنكَ شَكَا

وكُلُّ ذِى حَاجَةٍ مِنكَ اشتَكَى وبَكَى

Every guest, oh weeper, complained of you

And everyone in need complained and wept of you