مجونٌ صُبَّ في صنَمِ

مصوغ الطرفِ من سقَمِ

Licentiousness poured into an idol,

Whose glance is fashioned from languor,

كأنَّ الحبُّ فيهِ صُبَّ

من قرنٍ إلى قدم

As if love itself were poured into him,

From the crown of his head to his feet.

توفّت عقلَهُ الصهبا

ءُ في داجٍ من الظلم

The crimson wine extinguished his reason

Amidst the pitch-black darkness of the night,

فنكّس راسَهُ وهدا

وبتّ الليلَ لم أنَم

So he bowed his head and grew still,

While I passed the night without sleep.

فلو أبصرتَ خِلّي رز

مةٌ فاقت على الرزَمِ

If you had seen my friend, a bundle

That surpassed all other bundles,

وكيف بدا يشقّ الكا

ف في قرطاسهِ قلمي

And how my pen began to pierce the letter

Upon the parchment of his scroll,

إذا أبصرتَ أكّالاً

للحم الصيدِ في الحرم

You would have seen a voracious eater

Devouring game meat within the sacred sanctuary.

فلمّا أن صحا ورأى

كمثل المُخّ في الأرم

But when he sobered up and saw the signs—

Like marrow lingering upon the teeth—

فقال فعلتَها قد كن

تَ عندي غيرَ متهم

He said, "You did it! Yet you were,

In my eyes, never one to be accused."

فقلتُ متى رأيتَ الذ

ئبَ مأموناً على الغَنَم

I replied, "When have you ever seen the wolf

Trusted with the safety of the sheep?"

فأنشدني يخوّفني

وورّدَ دمعَه بدم

Then he recited to me, warning me,

While staining his tears with blood:

حسيبُك مَن له نقدٌ

لفوتِ مذاهبِ النقَمِ

"Your Reckoner is One who possesses judgment

Over the inescapable paths of retribution."