هذا سروُري بأبي عامر

مُغرِّقِي في لُجَّةِ الغامرِ

This is my joy for Abu Amer

Plunging me into the depths of peril

فتىً إذا جاراه في مَفخرٍ

مُساجِلٌ خاطَرَ بالخاطِر

A young man, if his peers vied with him in glory

Contending, thought met thought

النثرُ جسمٌ وهر روحٌ له

والنظمُ عينٌ وهو كالناظرِ

Prose is a body and poetry its soul

And verse is an eye while prose but looks on