1. سَقى اللَهُ قَبراً يا سَعيدُ تَضَمَّنَت

    نَواحيهِ أَكفاناً عَلَيكَ ثِيابُها

    May God water a grave, O Saʿīd, that enfolds

    within its bounds shrouds whose cloths lie upon you;

  2. وَحُفرَةُ بَيتٍ أَنتَ فيها مُوَسَّدٌ

    وَقَد سُدَّ مِن دونِ العَوائِدِ بابُها

    and a dwelling’s pit, where you lie pillowed,

    its door already barred to the women who visit.

  3. لَقَد ضَمِنَت أَرضٌ بِإِصطَخرَ مَيِّتاً

    كَريماً إِذا الأَنواءُ خَفَّ سَحابُها

    Indeed, the earth at Istakhr has enfolded a dead man,

    generous when the rain seasons’ clouds grew thin,

  4. شَديداً عَلى الأَدنَينَ مِنكَ إِذا اِحتَوى

    عَلَيكَ مِنَ التُربِ الهَيامِ حِجابُها

    a grievous loss to those nearest you, now that

    its veil of loose earth has closed around you.

  5. لِتَبكِ سَعيداً مُرضِعٌ أُمُّ خَمسَةٍ

    يَتامى وَمِن صِرفِ القَراحِ شَرابُها

    Let a nursing woman weep for Saʿīd, a mother of five

    orphans, with pure water alone for her drink.

  6. إِذا ذَكَرَت عَيني سَعيداً تَحَدَّرَت

    عَلى عَبَراتٍ يَستَهِلُّ اِنسِكابُها

    Whenever my eye recalls Saʿīd, it streams

    with tears that gush forth.