وُجُوهُ سُوءٍ إنْ غَلَى مِرْجَلٌ

لِفِتْنَةٍ تَغْشاهُمُ بَصْبَصُوا

Faces of misery though a kettle boiled

To temptation overwhelming them they hastened

وإنْ غَدا سِرْبُهُمُ آمناً

فَكُلُّ شَرٍّ عَنْهُ لَمْ يَنْكُصُوا

And if their troop at morn went forth secure

From every evil still they never refrained