وَصاحِبِ سوءٍ وَجهُهُ لِيَ أَوجُهٌ

وَفي فَمِهِ طَبلٌ لِسِرِّيَ يَضرِبُ

The one with an ugly face has many faces for me

And in his mouth is a drum that beats out my secrets

إِذا ما قَلى الإِخوانَ كانَ مَرارَةً

يُعَرِّضُ في حَلقي مِراراً وَيَنشَبُ

When he backbites the brothers, it is with bitterness

He makes bitterness run down my throat and is impudent

وَلا بُدَّ لي مِنهُ فَحيناً يَعَضُّني

وَيَنساغُ لي حيناً وَوَجهي مُقَطَّبُ

I have no choice but to bear him at times, he bites me

At times he is gentle with me, though my face is gloomy

كَماءِ طَريقِ الحَجِّ في كُلِّ مَنهَلٍ

يُذَمُّ عَلى ما كانَ مِنهُ وَيُشرَبُ

Like the water at pilgrim road stops, at every waterhole

He pours scorn on what he was, yet drinks from it