يَا سَيِّداً أَحرَزَ شأوَ العُلَى

فِي عَفوِهِ الأَبعدِ من شَدِّهِ

O master who has attained the heights of glory

In his forgiving, far from his severity

وَمَن غَدَا المَجدُ لَهُ حُلّةً

مِن عَمِّهِ المَهدِيِّ أَو جَدِّهِ

And he whose glory has become his raiment

From his benevolent uncle or his ancestors

عَبدُكُمُ الآبِقُ مُستَوحِشٌ

يَعثُرُ لِلخَجلةش فِي بُردِهِ

Your errant slave feels lonely

Stumbling in his shame into the cold

فَابذُل لَهُ العُتبَى وَدَع عَتبَهُ

مَا دَامَتِ الأَعذَارُ مِن جُندِهِ

So grant him your reproach and leave his blame

As long as excuses are his allies