إِلى الأَصلَعِ الحَلّافِ إِن كُنتَ شاعِراً
فَذَبِّب فَما هَذا بِحينِ لَغوبِ
Go at the bald-headed oath-monger, if you are a poet;
To the bald impostor - if you claim to be a poet -
then fend him off, for this is no time for weariness.
Silence your prattle, for this is no time for nonsense.
فَإِنَّ هَجينَي نَهشَلٍ قَد تَواكَلا
وَبَيَّنَ ضاحي البُرءِ غَيرُ كَذوبِ
For Nahshal’s two half-breeds have each left the task to the other,
My biting satire and fierce invective now conspire,
and one who does not lie has made the evident recovery clear.
Exposing clearly the fallacies you falsely propound.
Sol 6.1