أهبتُ بأشعاري إلى السَّيِّد النَّدْبِ

فجئنَ سِراعاً وانتُدِبْنَ إلى نَدْبي

I offered my poems to the lord of lament

He came rushing and was summoned to my lament

تَيَمَّمتُهُ فاخضرَّ عُودي وأشرقَتْ

سُعودي وفاءَ الخِصبُ لي عَقِبَ الجَدْبِ

I wished him well so my wood turned green and

My good fortune shone through after the drought

وكانتْ صُروفُ الدَّهر بي قد تَوَسَّدتْ

فصِرتُ كأنَّ الدَّهرَ لم يتوسَّدْ بِي

The turns of fate had leaned heavily on me

I became as if fate had not leaned on me

أبا بكرٍ الممدوحَ أُصفيكَ مِدحَتي

وأُصفي الّذي لم يُصفِكَ الوُدَّ بالَجدْبِ

Abu Bakr whom I praise, I describe you in my praise

And describe the one who did not describe you with affection as ungenerous