وَشَرَّفني مِنَ المَولَى كتابٌ

حُبيتُ بِهِ بخطٍّ من يَديهِ

The Master honored me with a book

That I loved, in His own hand it was wrote

وَأَحرُفُهُ جَميعاً مُهمَلاتٌ

أَشارَت لي بِإِهمالي لَدَيهِ

Its letters all were undotted throughout

To hint that with Him I’m forgot

وَلَستُ أَلومُ مَولانا عَلى ذا

وَلَستُ مُوجِّهاً عَتباً عَلَيهِ

Yet for this I'll not blame my Master dear

No grievance or grudge will I ever bear

فَإِنّي مُهمِلٌ بَينَ البَرايا

وَشِبْهُ الشيءِ مُنجذبٌ إِلَيهِ

For amidst all humanity I'm oft forgot

And like is attracted to its like, is it not