سَبَرْتُ نِهَايَةَ الإِخْلاصِ خُوْفاً

عَلَى ابْنِ جَمِيلٍ زَيْنِ الشَّبَابِ

I have sounded devotion to its furthest depth, in fear

For Ibn Jamil, the adornment of youth—

أَخِي العُرْفَانِ وَالأَدَبِ الْمُذَكِّي

فَتَى الفِتْيَانِ بِالْخُلُقِ العُجَابِ

My brother in insight and mind-quickening literature,

Foremost among young men in wondrous character;

مُجِيدُ النَّثْرِ نَقَّادُ الْقَوَافِي

سَدِيدُ الْفِكْرِ رُوَّادُ الْصَّوَابِ

A master of prose, a discerning critic of rhymes,

Sound in thought, ever seeking what is right.

شَفَاهُ اللهُ أَوْ يَقْضِي قَضَاءً

لإِحْيَاءِ الْقُشُورِ عَلَى اللُّبَابِ

May God heal him—or else pass a decree

That keeps the husks alive at the kernels’ expense.

أَلاَ يَا رَبُّ إِعْف الشَّرْقَ مِمَّا

بِهِ جَدَّ الْوَعِيدُ مِنَ الْمُصَاب

O Lord, spare the East from that by which

The threat of calamity has grown dire.

فَكَمْ يا رَبُّ فِيهِ مِنْ نُبُوغٍ

فَتُخْتَرَمُ النُّبُوغَ بِلا حِسَابِ

How much genius there is in it, O Lord—

Yet calamity cuts genius down without reckoning.