إذا حَسُنَتْ أخلافُ قومٍ فبِئْسما

خَلَفتم به أسلافكم آل طاهِر

If the successors of a people are good, how wretched

Are the ancestors they succeeded, O clan of Tahir!

جَنَوا لكُم أن تُمدَحوا وجنيتُمُ

لموتاكُمُ أن يُشتَموا في المقابر

You have profited by being praised, while you deserve

That your dead be reviled in their tombs.

فلو أنهم كانوا رأوا غيب أمركم

لقد وأدوكم سِيّما أمَّ عامر

Had they but foreseen the outcome of your affairs,

They would have stifled you at birth, especially the mother of Amir!

أجَيْئلةً عرفاء تَسحب رِجْلها

أجِدَّكَ لا يُرضيكَ مِدحةُ شاعِر

Lame old hags dragging their legs,

I find you are not content with the praise of a poet.

كأنك قد فُتّ المديح فما ترى

لمجدك فيه من كَفِيٍّ مُقادِر

As if you disdain praise, seeing in it

No adequate celebration of your glory.

فكيف ولو جاريت من وطأَ الحصا

لجئت وراء الناس آخرَ آخر

How so, when if you competed with the chaff-tredders,

You would lag behind the others, one after another?

ألست ابن بوشَنْجٍ أُعيْرِج ناقصاً

وإن نلتَ مهما نلتَهُ بالمقادر

Are you not the son of Bushanj, lame and incomplete,

However much you attain, by destiny's decree?

وما كانت الدنيا وأنت عميدُها

لتعدل عند الله عبَّة طائر

The world, of which you are the chief,

Is as nothing to God beside a passing cloud.

ولو كان في الناس ابن حرٍّ وحرةٍ

لمِتَّ ولم تخطر على بال ذاكر

Had there been in the people a free man or woman,

You would have died, and not come to a rememberer's mind.

أحَسْبك في العيدين إيجافُ موكبٍ

تَخايل فيه مُسبطرّ المشافر

I suppose that during the Feasts you are the pomp

Of a parade in which the sword-belts glitter.