زَجَرتُ كِتابَكُم لَمّا أَتاني

بِزَجرِ سَوانِحِ الطَيرِ الجَواري

I chided your book when it came to me

I read your letter's omens when it came to hand, / Interpreting the flight of birds across the land.

With the chiding of the twittering of birds

I saw it bound with cord upon its outer fold, / And sealed with pitch, a darkish secret to behold.

نَظَرتُ إِلَيهِ مَخزوماً بِزيرٍ

عَلى ظَهرٍ وَمَختوماً بِقارِ

I looked at it frowning with annoyance

I said: "The paper's back is fair as linen white, / Resembling slender maidens to the lover's sight."

On its back and sealed with tar

I said: "The cord implies a lute for melody, / The seal is pitch from wine-skins aged in secrecy."

فَقُلتُ الظَهرُ أَحوَرُ قُرطَقِيُّ

يُشابِهُ شَكلُهُ شَكلَ الجَواري

So I said the back is humpbacked

So I came to you with joy and longing in my stride, / Mistaking not the dwelling where you do abide.

Its shape resembles the shape of girls

How judge you then my divination and my art? / Do I not play the great philosopher's part?

وَقُلتُ الزيرُ مَلهاةٌ لِمُلهٍ

وَطينُ الخَتمِ مِن زِقِّ العُقارِ

And I said the tar is a toy for one who plays

And the clay of the seal is from grape residue

فَجِئتُ إِلَيكُمُ طَرَباً وَشَوقاً

فَما أَخطَأتُ دارَكُمُ بِدارِ

So I came to you in wonder and longing

And did not miss your house for any house

فَكَيفَ تَرَونَ زَجري وَاِعتِيافي

أَلَستُ مِنَ الفَلاسِفَةِ الكِبارِ

So how do you see my chiding and abstinence

Am I not one of the great philosophers