أَيا مَن في جِبِلَّتِهِ الجَميلُ

وَمَن بِخِلالِهِ يَحيا الخَليلُ

Oh you whose nature is so beautiful

And through whose character the sincere lives

تَرَكتُكَ لَم أُهَنِّكَ لا اِحتِقارا

وَلا أَنّي بَخِلتُ بِما أَقولُ

I left you, not to insult you, out of arrogance

Nor because I was miserly with what I say

وَلَكِن ما رَضيتُ خَليلَ شِعري

لِقَدرِكَ إِذا هُوَ القَدرُ الجَليلُ

But because I wouldn't let my poetry's friend

Be you, though great is your stature still

فَكُن لي باسِطاً في العُذرِ يا مَن

كَثيرُ التَهنِئاتِ لَهُ قَليلُ

So make excuses for me, oh you who

Gets many congratulations, though few