قال موسى إنّ فكري ديمةٌ

وقَريضي كلُّهُ روضٌ نَضِرْ

Moses said, “My thought is a steady rain,”

“and all my verse a fresh, flourishing meadow.”

وتألّى حِلفةً أنّ سِوى

شعرِه مثلُ هشيمِ المختضِرْ

And he solemnly swore that all save

his poetry is like crumbled herbage cut while green.

قلتُ يا موسى بن عِمرانَ أفِقْ

فلقد قُوبِلْتَ مني بالخَضِرْ

I said, “O Moses, son of Imran, wake up!

For from me you have now met al-Khidr.”