يا خَبَر مَن يَلحَظَه ناظِري

شَهادَةٌ ما شابَها زُورُ

O you whose penetrating eyes observe me,

My testimony has no trace of falsehood.

وَمَن إِذا ما لَيلُ خطبٍ دجا

لاحَ بِهِ مِن رأيِهِ نورُ

When the night of misfortune casts its veil,

The light of your wisdom illuminates it.

رَأَيُك إِمّا شِمَتُهُ صارِمٌ

عَضبٌ عَلى الأَعداءِ مَشهورُ

Your view is a stern sword,

Anger against enemies, renowned.

جاءَتنيَ الطير الَّتي سِرُّها

نَظمٌ بِهِ قَلبيَ مَسرورُ

The birds whose secret is

Verses that gladden my heart came to me.

شِعرٌ هوَ السِحرُ فَلا تُنكِروا

أَنّي بِهِ ما عِشتُ مَسحورُ

Poetry is magic, so do not deny

That I have lived enchanted by it.

اللَفظُ وَالقِرطاسُ إِن شُبِّها

قيلَ هُما مِسكٌ وَكافورُ

If words and paper are likened

To musk and camphor.

وَإِنَّهُ لَمّا اِغتَدى خاطِري

مُسائِلاً جاوَبَ عُصفورُ

And when my mind grew bold,

A sparrow answered.

هُوَ لِجَيش الطَير مِن فِكرَتي

صَقرٌ فَوَلّى وَهوَ مَقهورُ

It is to the army of birds as my thoughts

A falcon that attacked and was defeated.

فَلاحَ لي بَيتٌ فُؤادي لَهُ

دأباً عَلى وُدّك مَقصورُ

A verse shone for me, my heart is accustomed

To your love being confined to it.

حَظُّكَ مِن شكريَ يا سيدي

بِما بَدا لي منك مَوفورُ

Your share of my gratitude, my master,

Is abundant in what you have shown me.

قصّرتُ في نظميَ فاِعذر فَمَن

ضاهاكَ في التَقصير مَعذورُ

I fell short in my composition, so forgive one

Who falls short before you, excused.

فأنتَ إِن تنظمْ وَنتثرْ فَقَد

أَعوَزَ مَنظومٌ وَمَنثورُ

For if you compose poetry or prose,

Both verse and prose are impoverished.

لا يَعدُكُم رَوضٌ مِنَ الحَظّ في ال

إِكرام وَالتَرفيع ممطُورُ

No garden of good fortune equals you in

Honor and noble station.