نارُ الذراية من لساني تُقتَدحْ

يَغدو عليَّ منَ النُهى ما لم يَرُحْ

The fire of passion blazes from my tongue

The fire of insight is kindled from my tongue,

Morning brings reproaches unknown before

And from the mind comes wisdom that never departs,

بحرٌ لو اغتُرِفَت لطائم موجه

بالأرض والسبع الطباق لما نُزحْ

A sea whose gentle waves if drawn and sipped

A sea—were the surging breakers of its waves scooped up

Would overflow the seven earths full store

By the earth and the seven heavens, it would not run dry,

أمرى إليّ فإن سمحتُ بمهجَةٍ

كرُمَت عليّ فإنّ مثلي مَن سمَحْ

My affair is mine; if I accept reproach

My will is my own; so if I freely grant a soul

Blame me not; my like is ever free

That I held dear—well, one like me is he who gives.