على البَرِّ نَجْلِ البَرِّ مِنّي تَحِيَّةٌ

تَضَوَّعُ منْ نَشْرٍ تَأَرَّجُ منْ بِشْرِ

On the land, the noble son of the land, my greetings come

Scented with blossoms, perfumed with good news

يُضَمِّخُ أرْدانَ المعارِفِ عَرْفُها

يُعَطِّرُ أَرْجاءَ المكارِمِ والفَخْرِ

His virtue adorns the cheeks of knowledge

And scents the realms of virtues and pride

وتُنْهي إلى فَخْرِ الفَواطِمِ زينَةِ ال

هَواشِمِ سَبّاقِ الخَضارِمِ في الدهْرِ

It leads to the pride of Al Fatemis, the decoration of

Al Hashimis, the foremost of Al Khadramis through time

بأنَّ نِظاماً مِنْهُ وَافَى كأنّهُ

سُمُوطُ الدَّرارِي أو عُقُودٌ منَ الدُّرِ

For it has reached a system as if it were

Falling pearls or a necklace of pearls

بِهِ طَلَعَتْ شَمْسُ البَلاغَةِ فُلْكَها

هُوَ الطِّرْسُ في لَيْلِ السُّطورِ من الحِبْرِ

Through it the sun of eloquence rose to its zenith

It is the star in the night of lines from the ink

بِهِ اهْتَزَّ عِطْفُ الدَّهْرِ وارْتَقَصَتْ لَهُ

غَوانِي الْمَغانِي والمعَانِي مِنَ السَّطْرِ

Through it the sentiment of time shook and for it

The hearts' melodies and meanings from the line leapt

فَطَوْراً أَرَاهُ السِّحْرَ في طَيِّ طَلْسَمٍ

وطَوْراً أَراهُ السُّكر في رَقمِ السَّطْرِ

Sometimes I see it as sorcery in the fold of a talisman

And other times I see it as nectar in the drawing of the line

ولكِنَّهُ وَافَى فَتىً قَدْ تَشَعَّبَتْ

لَهُ شُغَلٌ صَدَّتْ عَنِ النّظْمِ والنَّثْرِ

But it has reached a youth who branched out

For him are preoccupations that blocked poetry and prose

وكَدّرَ مِنْ صَفْوِ الموارِدِ واردٌ

يُصَاوِلُه مِنْ حَيْثُ يَدْرِي ولا يَدْرِي

And disturbances poured in from the purity of resources

Tormenting him whether he knows or does not know

يَقُومُن بأَهْوالٍ ثِقالٍ طَويلَةٍ

وتَحْريرِ أبْحاثٍ تَجِلُّ عَنْ الحَصْرِ

Engaging in momentous, heavy, and lengthy tasks

And drafting research beyond enumeration

فحِيناً يناجِيهِ الخُصومُ وَتارَةً

تُضايِقُهُ الأَسْجالُ بالطَّيِّ والنَّشْرِ

Sometimes adversaries whisper to him and sometimes

Debates besiege him with folds and publications

وكَمْ لَيْلَةٍ يَبيَضُّ مُسْوَدّ فَحْمِها

وَمَا اسْوَدَّ مُبْيَضّ الرّقاعِ لَدَى الفجْرِ

And how many a night where its darkness whitens

And the white of papers does not blacken by dawn

يَطيرُ غُرابُ البَيْنِ عَنْ وَكْرِهِ وَما

يَحُولُ مِدادُ الطِّرْسِ عَنْ ذِلِكَ الوَكرِ

The raven of separation flies from its nest but

The ink of the star does not deviate from that nest

فَعَلّكَ يا نَجْلَ الأكارِمِ عاذِرٌ

فَتىً قَدْ أَماطَ السّتْرَ عَنْ أوْجُهِ العُذْرِ

So you, son of nobles, may excuse

A youth who has uncovered the faces of excuses