لَيسَ السَواد ناقِصي ما دامَ لي

هذا اللِسانُ إِلى فُؤاد ثابِت

Blackness is no defect as long as I have

This eloquent tongue and steadfast heart.

من كانَ تَرفَعه منابِت أَصلِهِ

فَبُيوت اِشعاري جَعَلن منابِتي

He whose pride springs from his origin

Has made my poems spring from my roots.

كَم بَينَ اسودَ ناطِق بِبَيانِهِ

ماضي الجِنان وَبَينَ ابيَضَ صامِت

How far between the black man, fluent in his speech,

Refined in spirit, and the silent white man!

انّي لِيحسُدني الرَفيعِ بِناؤُه

من فَضل ذاكَ وَلَيسَ بي من شامِت

The high-born man may envy me for the merit

Of my works, though he feels no joy for me.