يا أيُّها المولى الرئيسُ ومَن لهُ

جودٌ يضاهي الغيثَ حَالَةَ سَكبهِ

O master and chief, you whose

generosity rivals the rain at the moment of its pouring,

أشكو لعَدلكَ جَورَ دَهر لم أزَل

طولَ المَدَا عَرَضاً لأَسهُم خَطبَه

I appeal to your justice against the tyranny of Time, for I have never ceased,

through all the long years, to be a target for the arrows of its affliction.

وأشدُّ ما قاسيتُ منهُ أنه

عن شكر فضلك قد شغُلتُ بِعَتبهِ

And the hardest thing I have suffered from it is that

reproaching it has distracted me from thanking you for your bounty.

فاغفر لعَبد قد أتاكَ وما له

حسناتُ أفعالٍ تَقُومُ بَذَنبهِ

So forgive a servant who has come to you possessing no

good deeds sufficient to atone for his sin.

باللَه يُقسِمُ والنبيِّ وآلهِ ال

أطهارِ أصحابِ العَبَا وبصَحبه

By God he swears, and by the Prophet and his pure—

Household, the People of the Cloak—and by his Companions:

ما باتَ في ذا العيد يملك درهماً

وكفاك أنَّ الشَّعرَ أعظمُ كسبه

this Eid night found him without a black penny to his name;

suffice it that poetry is the greatest of his earnings.

فَتَرَاهُ يُنشِدُ حَسرَةً وتأسُّفا

من هَمِّه لعدوِّه ومُحبِّهِ

Thus you see him reciting in anguish and regret,

driven by his cares, to enemy and beloved alike:

ماذا يضرُّ الخَشكَنَانُ لو أنَّهُ

في العيدِ يُخبِرُني بما في قلبهِ

What harm would it do the khashkanān if it

told me, on this Eid, what lies within its heart?

ولقد شكا لك من حوادث دَهرهِ

سُقماً وَلستُ بعاجزٍ عن طبِّهِ

It has indeed complained to you that the blows of its time

have made it ill—and I am by no means unable to cure it.

لا زال بابُك للهَناء مُؤَهلا

أبدا على بُعدِ المَزَارِ وقُربِهِ

May your door never cease to welcome happiness,

forever, whether the journey to it be distant or near.