قولا لمن عاب شعر مادِحه

أما ترى كيف رُكِّب الشجرُ

Tell the one who finds fault with my eulogizing poetry,

Don’t you see how trees are fashioned?

رُكِّب فيه اللحاء والخشب ال

يابس والشوك بينه الثمر

The rough bark and dry wood are assembled in them,

Along with thorns, yet also fruit.

وكان أولى بأن يهذّب ما

يخلق ربُّ الأرباب لا البشر

It would be better if what the Lord of all lords creates

Were refined, not what humans make.

فلم يكن ذاك بل سواه من ال

أمر لشيءٍ جرى به القدر

But that is not the case. Rather, apart from that,

Things happen according to fate’s decree.

والله أدرى بما يدبره

منا وفي كل ما قضى الخِيَر

God knows best what He plans for us

In all the good He destines.

فليعذُر الناس من أساء ومن

قصر في الشعر إنه بشر

So let people forgive whoever errs

Or falls short in poetry—he is only human.

مطلبه كالمغاص في دَرك ال

لجَّة من دون دُرها خطر

His goal is like one groping in muddy darkness

For pearls, heedless of peril.

وليذكروا أنه يُكَدّ له ال

عقل وتُنضى في قرضه الفِكر

Let them remember his mind is racked,

His thoughts worn out by the crafting of verses.

وفيه ما يأخذ التخيُّرُ من

غالٍ ثمينٍ وفيه ما يَذر

In it is what the discerning take,

Precious and fine, and what they spurn.

وليس بدٌّ لمن يغوص من ال

جرف لما يُصطفى ويُحتقَر

For one diving from a cliff, there is no choice

But to grasp what is chosen or scorned.