أَلا يا جَبَلَ المُقتِ ال

لَذي أَرسى فَما يَبرَح

O mountain of affliction that remains steadfast,

Oh, towering mountain of sheer loathing,

Woe to him who carries your burden, it would crush him.

Firmly anchored, never to depart;

وَيا مَن هُوَ مِن ثَهلا

نَ لَو حُمِّلتَهُ أَفدَح

God has shaped you well,

And O you, who—compared to Mount Thahlan—

Yet not sweetened nor salted.

Would prove the heavier burden were you placed upon it;

لَقَد صَوَّرَكَ اللَهُ

فَما حَلّى وَلا مَلَّح

Long have I pondered,

God has indeed fashioned your form,

Yet know not your purpose.

But He bestowed upon it neither sweetness nor wit.

وَقَد طَوَّلتُ تَفكيري

فَما أَدري لِما تَصلُح

You're unfit for satire,

I have pondered long and deep,

Nor worthy of praise.

Yet I cannot fathom what use you serve.

فَما تَصلُحُ أَن تُهجى

وَلا تَصلُحُ أَن تُمدَح

Rather I ask God's forgiveness,

You are not worthy enough to be satirized,

For your face can be smoothed over.

Nor are you worthy enough to be praised.

بَلى أَستَغفِرُ اللَهَ

عَلى وَجهِكَ قَد يُسلَح

Would that you'd not seen the evening,

Nay—I ask God's forgiveness—there is a use:

Nor lived to see the morn!

Upon your face, filth might be voided.

فَيا لَيتَكَ إِن أَمسَي

تَ لا أَمسَيتَ لا تُصبِح

Would that in the depths,

So I wish that if you see the evening,

You could not surface to swim!

—May you not see it—you would never wake to the morning;

وَيا لَيتَكَ في اللُجَّ

ةِ لا تُحسِنُ أَن تَسبَح

And I wish you were cast into the ocean's abyss,

Utterly ignorant of how to swim.