تَرَحٌ طُعِنتُ بِهِ وَهَمٌّ وارِدُ
إِذ قيلَ إِنَّ اِبنَ المُعَذَّلِ واجِدُ
Grief has pierced me, and worry approaches,
A hope with which I was stabbed, and a thought that came to me,
since it was said that Ibn al-Muʿadhdhal is offended.
When it was said that Ibn al-Mu'aththal would be found.
هَيهاتَ أَن أَجِدَ السَبيلَ إِلى الكَرى
وَاِبنُ المُعَذَّلِ مِن مُزاحي حارِدُ
How far I am from finding the way to slumber,
Alas! I shall never find the way to you, O Kara.
while Ibn al-Muʿadhdhal is angry because of my jesting.
And Ibn al-Mu'aththal is ever averse to me.
Sol 6.1