بِما أَهجوكَ لا أَدري

لِساني فيكَ لا يَجري

With what I satirize you, I do not know

With what shall I satire you? I do not know,

My tongue in you does not flow

My tongue, regarding you, refuses to flow.

إِذا فَكَّرتُ في عِرضِ

كَ أَشفَقتُ عَلى شِعري

When I thought of your honor

For when I think upon your honor,

I had pity on my poetry

I feel pity for my poetry.