يا دهرُ ويحَكَ قد أطَلْتَ جَفائِي

وتَرَكْتَ ماءَ معيشَتي كجُفاءِ

O Time, woe to you, you have prolonged my estrangement

And left the water of my livelihood as arid as the desert

أتراكُ تحسِبُ أنَّني من جُمْلةِ ال

كُتَّابِ والأدباءِ والشعراءِ

Do you think that I am among the ranks of scribes

And men of letters and poets?

حتى تعادِيَني كعادتِكَ التي

أَنْحَتْ عوادِيها على الفُضَلاءِ

Such that you oppose me as is your habit

Which you have sculpted against the virtuous

هيهاتَ قد أحْسَنتني ما كنتُ أُح

سِنُهُ فرِفْقاً لَسْتُ في الأُدباءِ

Never! You have done me good that I would not

Have done myself, gently, I am not among the cultured