سَلِ الْفُؤَادَ وَدَعْ خَنَى شُعْرُورِ

فِي مَرْتَعِ يُعْزَى إِلَى الخِْنْزِيرِ

Ask the heart, and leave the foul speech of a petty poet,

In a pasture attributed to the swine,

وَأَدِرْ طِلاَ الأَفْرَاحِ بَيْنَ حَدَائِقٍ

كَنَمَارِقٍ مِنْ سُنْدُسٍ وَحَرِيرِ

And pass around the wine of joys among gardens,

Like cushions of brocade and silk,

فِي جَنَّةٍ أَْيْنَعَتْ أَفْنَانُهَا

وَتَأَرَّجَتْ أَرْجَاؤُهَا بِعَبِيرِ

In a paradise whose branches have flourished,

And its environs are perfumed with fragrance,

وَتَزَخْرَفَتْ أَنْوَارُهَا بِبَطَائِحٍ

جَلَّتْ مَحَاسِنُهَا عَنِ التَّعْبِيرِ

And its blossoms are adorned across wide plains,

Whose beauties defy all expression,

مِنْ أَصْفَرٍ فِي أَحْمَرٍ فِي أَبْيَضٍ

كَالنَّضْرِ وَالْعِقْيانِ وَالْبَلُّورِ

From yellow, into red, into white,

Like radiant gold, pure ore, and crystal,

تُسْلِي الْكَئِيبَ بِلاَبِلٌ صَدَحَتْ بِهَا

كَكَوَاعِبٍ رَجَّعْنَ آيَ زَبُورِ

Nightingales singing within it console the sorrowful,

Like fair maidens chanting verses of the Psalms,

وَجَدَاوِلٌ تَنْسَابُ تَحْسِبُ أَنَّهَا

عِنْدَ الأَصِيلِ جَرَتْ بِذَوْبَ نَضِيرِ

And streams gliding smoothly, you would think them,

At twilight, to be flowing with molten gold,

أَرْبَى علَى نَهْرِ الأَبُلَّةِ بَهْجَةً

وَزَرَى بِرَوْضِ الْغُوطَةِ الْمَشْهُورِ

It surpasses the river of Al-Ubulla in splendor,

And belittles the famous gardens of Ghouta,

لَوْ أَبْصَرَ النُّعْمَانُ بَهْجَةَ حُسْنِهِ

لَمْ يَبْتَهِجْ بِخَوَرْنَقٍ وَسَدِيرِ

Had Al-Nu'man beheld the splendor of its beauty,

He would not have rejoiced in Khawarnaq and Sadir;

لاَغَرْوَ فيِ أَنْ ذَمَّهُ مَنْ لَمْ يَجِدْ

شِعْراً بِمَيْنِ هِجَائِهِ الْمَكْسُورِ

No wonder it is disparaged by one who cannot master

Poetry, with the falsehood of his broken satire,

وَغَدَا يُهَجَّنُهُ بِقَوْلِ الزُّورِ

إِنَّ النُّضَارَ يَرُوقُ بِالتَّشْحِيرِ

And begins to degrade it with words of deceit—

For indeed, pure gold shines brighter against the soot.