عَجِبتُ لَوَغدٍ قَد جَذبتُ بِضَبعِهِ
فَأَصبَحَ يَلقاني بِتيهٍ وَبِيسَما
I marveled at a scoundrel whom I had lifted by the upper arm;
Then he began meeting me with arrogance, though through me he rose.
يَرومُ مُساماتي وَمِن دُونِها السَما
وَكَيفَ يُباريني سُموّاً وَبي سَما
He seeks to rival my loftiness, though the sky lies beneath it;
And how can he rival me in loftiness, when through me he rose?
Sol 6.1