لا تَبعَدنَّ قصائدٌ ذهبتْ سُدَى

جَارتْ بها الهفواتُ عن سَنَنِ الهُدى

Do not let poems that have gone astray prevent you,

The vagaries of life have made them deviate from the path of guidance,

مِدَحٌ كأردية الرياض جعلتُها

بالجهل أرديَةً لشرّ من ارتدى

I made praise that was like a garden,

But in ignorance I made it a cloak for the evilest of those who have strayed.

يا ابن المدبّر بالأيور فإنها

أقصى مدى لك حين يُبْتَدَرُ المدى

O son commanded with the flags, they are

The farthest you will reach, when support runs out,

لا تبخلنَّ على امرىء خيَّبْتَهُ

بجواب مسألةٍ كبُخلك بالجَدا

Do not be miserly towards a man whom you have disappointed

With your miserliness in answering questions.

قل لي بأية حيلةٍ أعملتها

هتفوا بأنك ماجدٌ غَمْرُ الندى

Tell me, what plot have you hatched

That they chant you are glorious, immersed in dew?

لقد استفاض لك الثناءُ بحيلةٍ

لو أنها عندي نجوتُ من الردى

Praise of you has spread by a plot,

If only that plot were mine, I would have been saved from misery!

أُثني عليك بمثل ريحك ميِّتاً

وقد انصدعْتَ وأنت منبوش الصَّدى

I praise you when dead like your flatulence air,

You whose echo has split open and scattered around!

ولَمَا صداك يسيل منه صديدُهُ

يوماً بأنتَن منك حيّاً تُجتَدى

And when the dripping of your pus oozes from it

One day when your stench leads you to be burned alive?!

أسلمتَ نَفسَكَ للهجاء ولو غدا

أو راح يملك فديةً منك افتدى

You have handed yourself over to blame, even if tomorrow

Or it wants to rule, no ransom could save you if it came to redeem you!

قد كنتُ لا آلوك صوْغاً للحلى

فالآن لا آلوك شحذاً للمدَى

I would not refine you into refined gold for jewelry,

Now I would not refine you into an awl’s point!

شاورتَ في مِدَحي وفي حرمانها

رأياً لعمر أبيك ضلَّ وما اهتدى

You have consulted about praising me or depriving me of it

By your father’s life! An opinion that has gone astray and is not guided!

فلأبكِينَّ لك الصديقَ بعَوْلة

ولأضحكنَّ بك العدوَّ إلى العِدا

So I will make the loyal one cry over you as an abandoned woman weeps,

And make your enemy laugh with glee to the utmost!

بعوارم لا ذنب لي في نسجها

إذ كان ما أسْدَتْ يداك لها سَدَى

With war poems I am not to blame for composing,

Since it was what your hands did towards them that led to waste.

ألحمتُها بالقول إذ أسْدَيْتَهَا

بالفعل ما جار الهجاء ولا اعتدى

I joined them in speech when your hands did waste them

In deed, no blame or transgression took place!

فدعِ الملامة للهجاء فإنه

إن كان جار أو اعتدى فبك اقتدى

So stop blaming poems for blame, for if

There was transgression or blame then it was you who set an example!