أجودُ بالشّعرِ لكِن

شعري لديهم ذنوبُ

I excel at poetry, but

My poems have faults

ما بينَ شعري ورزقي

تفنى وتحيَا شعوبُ

Between my poetry and my livelihood

Generations perish and revive

شطّ المَزَارُ بهذا

وذاكَ منّي قريبُ

The shrine's courtyard with this

And that is close to me

لَو كان ربّي برَاني

من طينَةٍ لا تذوبُ

If my Lord had created me

Of clay that does not dissolve

لكنتُ أبقى دهوراً

في كلّ يومٍ أتوبُ

I would have remained for ages

Repenting every day