أيسيرُ مدحي في الأمير وكلُّهُ

أيسيرُ مدحي في الأمير وكلُّهُ

يا للرجال مُؤرَّجٌ بعتابِ

يا للرجال مُؤرَّجٌ بعتابِ

Does my praise of the emir circulate, though all of it—

My praise of the prince goes on, while he

O men!—is scented with reproach?

O men, is clad in robes of blaming me.

ما قلت قافيةً تخبِّر أنهُ

ما قلت قافيةً تخبِّر أنهُ

فيما يُثيب أثابني بثوابِ

فيما يُثيب أثابني بثوابِ

I have uttered no verse reporting that he,

No rhyme have I composed that tells him so,

in giving rewards, has given me a reward.

Yet for my thanks he gives me gifts, you see.

ظنِّي لئن أنا دام لي حرمانُهُ

ظنِّي لئن أنا دام لي حرمانُهُ

لألقَّبَنَّ بشاعرٍ كذابِ

لألقَّبَنَّ بشاعرٍ كذابِ

I think that, if his withholding from me continues,

I think, though now deprived of his regard,

I shall surely be dubbed a lying poet.

I will be named a poet, falsely.

يا بؤسَ للشعراءِ يسهرُ ليلُهمْ

يا بؤسَ للشعراءِ يسهرُ ليلُهمْ

ويُلقَّبون بأسوَأِ الألقابِ

ويُلقَّبون بأسوَأِ الألقابِ

Alas for poets: their nights pass sleepless,

Woe to the poets! Their nights sleepless are,

and they are given the worst of epithets.

Yet branded with the worst names they will be.