سقى دار ليلى حيث حلت رسومها — Albohtry

May Layla's dwelling, where her traces lie, be watered

By recurring early-autumn rains whose clouds hang heavy.

How many a night has brought her apparition to me,

With desert plains and ridges lying between us.

The lands grow fragrant with her night passage when she travels;

So their scent grows sweet, and their breeze grows pure.

When my soul recalls you in longing, there stream

At the thought of you, tears singly and in pairs.

God has decreed that, because of you, I bear burning anguish;

The nights pass away, yet that grief stays and abides.

I turn my heart away from you, then bring it back,

And excuse myself for loving you, then reproach myself.

When al-Muhtadi bi-llah's virtues are counted,

You would think the sky's stars were vying to outnumber you.

God has indeed bestowed upon the imam Muhammad

A special measure of virtues common to Quraysh.

His forefathers among them are their caliphs, who

Have their distinction and noble character amid calamities.

And no new noble deeds can come to be

Through all time, except where the old ones stood.

Ahmad's community acknowledged his excellence,

So its crooked and its upright alike submitted to him.

And had it denied him that right, it could not

Have escaped without the stars becoming missiles against it.

May gifts bring you joy, Commander of the Faithful,

From God, their great bounty gratefully acknowledged by you.

And the strengthening of God's religion, when its charge was entrusted

To you, so one versed in affairs weighed them carefully.

The sons of Hashim, throughout east and west,

Are the noble sons of this world, and you are their noblest.

Whenever they walk at your two sides with faces

That belittle the moons of darkness and put them to shame,

I see Quraysh where its glory has been perfected,

And its endeavors fulfilled, its wisdom restored.

Black-feathered birds came in succession from Salih

To you, bearing news whose arrival brings delight.

Soaring high, their speech proclaims victory,

And before you their gloomy silence had long endured.

We report of those Kharijites that

Their mighty chief fell unwillingly beneath the swords.

I see Islam's domain, since you took charge of it,

Its aggressor cut down and its sacred bounds guarded.

The wronged subject recovered his right,

And their oppressor cleared the road before him.

And the makers of havoc wagged their tails when guided

By a wielder of fierce blows, whose stricken never recover.

And the Romans granted what was demanded of them

At Abriq, when informed by their adversary.

Is religion anything but jihad—you lead us

Swiftly to it—or prayer that you establish?

The month's nights have passed, save a remnant

In which you strive in night prayer or keep vigil.

And the easiest of what you have offered God, seeking

His pleasure, is the prescribed days you spend fasting.

You forsook amusements for divine reward and solitary devotion

To the verses of God's remembrance, whose wise words are recited.

And you forsook pleasures, though welcoming

Were their springtime haunts, and lovely their traces.

And this world has no beauty if it is not supported

By a beautiful hereafter whose bliss endures.

Your continued presence among us is God's blessing to us;

So with the fullest thanks for it, we seek to make it last.