بِالأَبلَقِ الفَردِ بَيتي بِهِ

وَبَيتُ المَصيرِ سِوى الأَبلَقِ

With the lone white dome my house I built,

While the house of fate's beside the white dome.

بِبَلقَعَةٍ أَثبَتَت حُفرَةً

ذِراعَينِ في أَربَعٍ خَيسَقِ

With a small jug it created a hole,

Two arm spans in four worn out.

فَلا أَدفَعُ الضَيفَ عَن رِزقِهِ

لَدَيَّ إِذا قيلَ لَم يُرزَقِ

So I don't turn the guest from his fate,

If it's said, "He went unprovisioned."

وَفي البَيتِ ضَخماءُ مَملوأَةٌ

وَجَفنٌ عَلى هَمِعٍ مُدهَقِ

And in the house are large vessels filled,

And an eyelid over a reddened bleary eye.

أُبيتُ الَّذي قَد أَتى عادِياً

وَحَيّاً مِنَ الحَلَقِ الأَورَقِ

I shelter the one who came to me customary,

Alive from the most verdant of throats.