أيا وليَّ الدَّولةِ المُرتَجى

قَولُ وَليٍّ لكَ مُستَبْطِ

O guardian of the hoped-for state

The saying of a guardian is evident to you

يا مَنْ غدَتْ أخلاقُهُ كُلُّها

عَدْلاً تُقيمُ الوَزْنَ بالقِسْط

O you whose morals have all become

Justice that sets up the scales with equity

ما لِمواعيدِكَ قد أَصبحَتْ

جَزاؤها يَهزَأُ بالشّرط

Why have your promises now become

Rewards that mock the condition?

وكم إلى دارِكَ ردَّدتنِي

من أجلِها تَرْديدَ مُشتَطّ

And how often to your house I returned

Back and forth because of it, confused

حتّى من الغَيظِ الّذي نالَني

لطُولِ ذاكَ العَدْو والخَبط

Until from the anger that befell me

From the length of that enemy and turmoil

لو كان رِجْلي قَلَماً عندَها

لكنتُ لم أَعدَمْهُ من قَطّ

If my foot were a pen in her presence

I would not lack it from writing

فَرْطُ الحجابِ الصّعبِ ما وَجْهُه

على صديقٍ زادَ في فَرط

The difficulty of strict privacy—what is its face

To a friend whose excess increased?

على امْرئٍ تَأخذُ من شُكرِه

إن حُزْتَه فوقَ الّذي تُعطي

To a man from whose gratitude you take

If you bestow on him beyond what you give

أَسرَفْتَ في قَبْضتي وكنتَ الّذي

آمُلُ أن تُسرِفَ في بَسْطي

You were excessive in taking me prisoner while you were the one

I hope will be excessive in freeing me

جاهُك ذا المَقْسومُ بينَ الوَرى

تُراه ما لي فيه من قِسْط

Your fame—the sustenance divided among people—

I see I have no share of it

وكَفُّك السّمحةُ مذ لم تَزَلْ

وما لإحسانِكَ من غَمط

And your clement palm—it never ceased to be—

And your beneficence is without blame

تَسمَحُ بالحَظِّ لطُلابه

فكيف لا تَسمَحُ بالخَطِّ

You are clement with the unworthy of your seekers

So why not clement with the errant?

وإنّك الفَردُ الّذي خَطُّه

في أُذُنِ الدّولةِ كالقُرْط

And you are the unique one whose line

In the state’s ear is like an earring

قُلْ للنّجيبِ ابنِ النّجيبِ الّذي

إذا رمَى الأغراضَ لم يُخطي

Say to the well-bred son of the well-bred one who

If he aims at goals never misses:

ظُلْمٌ لأقلامِك أن سُمّيَتْ

إذْ شُبِّهْت بالأَرقَمِ المُرط

It is an injustice to your pens that they are named

When likened to the slow porcupine

وأنمُلٌ منك ثلاثٌ غَدَتْ

يَريشُها من يَدِكَ السَّبْط

You have three fingers that have become

Feathers fanned by your august hand

خَطُّ كمِثْلِ الدُّرِّ من كاتبٍ

سَطْرٌ له أنْفَسُ من سِمْط

A line like pearls from a scribe

A verse more fragrant than musk

قد نثَر اللُّؤلُؤَ في طِرسِه

فأهوَتِ الجَوزاءُ لِلّقْط

It scattered pearls in its pages

And the wild pigeons hastened to pick them

لَوَدَّتِ الأنجُمُ في كُتْبِه

لَو جُعلَتْ أمكنةَ النَّقْط

The stars in his books wished

To be places for dots

فَبعضُ ما استحقَقْتَ ما نِلْتَهُ

من رِفعةٍ آمنةِ الحَطّ

So some of what you deserved of what you obtained

Of secure, protected glory,

ودولةٌ حسناء مَحسودةٌ

أَعطاكَها للدُّوَلِ المُعْطي

And a beautiful, envied state

The Giver of States has given you

ما كُتبَتْ سَهْواً فكنْ آمِناً

لها من المَحْوِ أوِ الكَشْط

What is written inadvertently—so be reassured—

It has protection from erasure or scraping off