لَقَد بَسَطَ اللَهُ المَكارِمَ مِن كَفّي

فَلَستُ عَلى العلاّت مِنها أَخا كَفِّ

God has spread generous qualities from my palms,

So I am not negligent of them, my brother.

تُنادي بُيوتُ المالِ مِن فرطِ بَذلِها

يمينيَ قَد أَصرَفتِ ظالِمتي كُفّي

Houses of wealth call out from the excess of my giving,

My right hand has made my left hand stop being stingy.

أَتُغري يَميني بِالسَماحِ فَتَنهَمي

وَلا تَرتَضي خِلّا يَقولُ لَها يَكفي

Does my right hand entice me with generosity until it becomes greedy,

And does not accept anything less than being told “that is enough”?

لَعَمرُكَ ما الإِسرافُ في طَبيعَةٍ

وَلَكِنَّ طَبعَ البُخلِ عِنديَ كالحَتفِ

By your life, extravagance is not in my nature,

Rather the imprint of stinginess in me is like carved stone.