يُخَفِّفُ وَطئاً حينَ أَمشي وَراءَهُ

فَيَبخَلُ عَن عَيني بِمَسِّ تُرابِ

He lightens his tread as I walk behind him

Yet denies my eyes the touch of dust from his feet

أَبى العَتبَ وَهوَ النارُ بَينَ جَوانِحي

وَأَبخَلُ خَلقٍ باخِلٌ بِعَذابِ

He refuses reproach, though it burns within me

No miser more sparing of torment could be