آوَيتُ دِهليزَكَ مُنذُ أَربَعٍ

وَلَم أَكُن آوي الدَهاليزا

I sheltered your corridor for four

I have lodged within your vestibule for four nights,

Though sheltering corridors isn't my chore

Though I was never one to lodge in vestibules.

خُبزي مِنَ السوقِ وَمَدحي لَكُم

تِلكَ إِذاً قسمة ضيزى

My bread's from the market, my praise for you all

My bread comes from the market, while my praise is yours;

That then is the measure of my small hall

That, then, is a most unjust division.