سالت مأسورة قامت مخاصمة

نركيلة شهرت بالجور والفتن

I asked a smoking pipe that had risen to quarrel

With a hookah notorious for tyranny and strife:

كيف اعتديت ورمت حرب فاجرة

ترك الحيا عندما من أجمل السنن

“How could you attack and seek war with a wicked one,

When, to her, forsaking modesty is among the finest customs?

وكان عهدي بك حسن التأدب

والصمت الجميل بلا حقد ولا ضغن

Yet I had known you for good manners

And graceful silence, without malice or rancor.”

فافثر مبسمها الزاهي مجاوبة

جواب فهم بلفظ رائق حسن

Then her radiant mouth parted in a smile as she replied,

An insightful answer, in clear and lovely words:

لي عادة كلما خاصمتها وأنا

فقيرة ظفرت كفاي بالمنن

“It is my habit: whenever I quarrel with her, though I

Am poor, my two hands win favors.

وان تسامت على ضعفي بقوتها

يأتي لنصري معينا عسكر التتن

And if she towers above my weakness with her strength,

The army of tobacco comes to my aid as an ally.”