كتابك راق الوشيُ من خطِّ كاتبِهْ

أم الرّوْض فيه راضياً عن سحائبهْ

Your book's cover delighted with its writer's script

Is it a meadow wherein lies its clouds' pleasure?

أم الفلك الأَعلى وفيه دليلُه

نقلتَ إلى الأسطارِ زُهرَ كواكِبه

Or is it the highest celestial sphere with its proof?

You have conveyed onto the lines the flowers of its stars

فإنّي كَحَلْتُ العَينَ منه بفرقد

توَقّدَ نوراً وهو جار لصاحبه

So I have kohl my eyes with its peridot

That kindled a light as it belongs to its owner

طلعتَ على مصر ونورك ساطع

فقالوا هلالٌ طالعٌ من مغاربه

You have risen over Egypt and your light is shining

So they said: a new crescent rising from its sunsets

وفي المَغرب البَحر المُحيط وقد عَلا

على نيلِ مصرٍ منه مدّ غواربه

And in the sunset, there is the vast ocean that did rise

Above Egypt's Nile from it extends its tides

ولمّا انْثنى بالجَزرِ أبقى لديهِمُ

أحاديثَ تُرْوى من صنوفِ عجائبه

And when it bent around the islands it left behind

Tales that are told of the kinds of its wonders

فيا فارس الشعر الذي ماتَ قِرْنُه

بموتِ زهيرٍ في ارتجالِ غرائبه

So oh master poet whom passed his peers

By the death of Zuhair in improvising his marvels

لأصبحتَ مثل البَحر يَزخَر وَحدَه

وإن كثُرَ الأنهار مِن عن جوانِبه

You have become like the sea fruitful on its own

Even if the rivers are many from its sides