غدا كلُّ ذي شعرٍ يُدل بشعرِهِ

وماليَ إدلالٌ بغيرِ نَداكا

Tomorrow every poet will boast of his poetry,

But I have no boasting except in your praise.

رجوتُ رجائي فيكَ لا ببلاغتي

ولكن بجودٍ حالفتْهُ يداكا

I hoped for my wish in you, not in my eloquence,

But in your generosity which your hand pledged.

على أن ذا الإبلاغَ فيك رأيتُه

إذا هو أسرى يهتدي بهداكا

Yet I saw that eloquence in you,

If it was captive, it sought guidance in your guidance.

فليس بمحمودٍ لأن صوابَهُ

جَداً منك يأتيه أمام جَداكا

So it is not praiseworthy because its correctness

Comes sincerely from you, before your sincerity.

وما حمدُ من سدَّدتَه ورفدتَه

وما قال إلا ما يقول عداكا

No praise to one whom you have guided and supported,

Who says nothing but what you would say.

وما قولهم إلا الجميل لأنهم

متى أهْجروا كذَّبتهم بسَداكا

Their words are only beautiful because they,

If they went astray, were proven false by your truth.