فَتى الشَيخِ لا يَنفَكّ عَن ظَهرِ نَعلِهِ

كَثَقلِ حَديدٍ ما سِواهُ لَهُ راوي

The youth never leaves the old man's shoe

Like heavy iron nothing else steadies him

بِرَبِّكَ اِبتِهاجاً في اللِقاءِ تَظُنُّهُ

وِداداً وَفِعلُ الغَدرِ في قَلبِهِ ثاوي

By your Lord, joyfully receiving him you’d think

Affection while betrayals set in his heart

يُلَفِّقُ في الناسِ المَساوي بِخَطِّهِ

رقاعاً فَلا يَنفَكُّ صَبّاً بِها غاوي

Among people with his lines he patches together

Scraps thus never ceasing, pouring into delusion