أُنَمْنِمُ بِالأَقْلاَمِ خَطَّاً مُحَبَّرَا

فَيُحْسَبُ فِي القِرْطَاسِ دُرّاً مُفَصَّلاَ

With pens I trace a line of verse

That's counted as a string of pearls, precise, dispersed.

وَلَسْتُ بِبَرَّاءٍ لَهَا غَيْرَ عَاجِزٍ

وَمَا كُلُّ مِنْ بِالسَّيْفِ يَضْرِبُ صَيْقَلاَ

I'm not absolved, though powerless,

Not everyone who wields a sword can polish or impress.