1. إِنَّ عَضّيكَ يا أَخي بِالمَلامِ

    لا يُؤَدّي لِمِثلِ هَذا الخِصامِ

    Indeed, my biting reproach of you, my brother,

    does not call for a quarrel such as this.

  2. أَنتَ وَالشَمسِ وَالضُحى وَاللَيالي ال

    عَشرِ وَالفَجرِ غَيرُ راعي الذِمامِ

    You—by the sun, the morning brightness, and the nights

    numbering ten, and dawn—are no keeper of pledges.

  3. ما عَهِدناكَ يا كَريمَ السَجايا

    تَصرِفُ النَفسَ عَن هَناتِ الكِرامِ

    We never knew you, noble of character,

    to turn your soul away from noble people's small faults.

  4. لَيسَ في كُتبِنا سُؤالُ نَوالٍ

    مِنكَ حَتّى خَشيتَ رَدَّ السَلامِ

    In our letters there is no request for bounty

    from you, that you should fear to return a greeting.

  5. نَحنُ نَرضى بِالقوتِ مِن هَذِهِ الدُن

    يا وَإِن باتَ دونَ قوتِ النَعامِ

    We are content with sustenance from this world,

    even if it were less than the fare of ostriches.

  6. وَإِذا خانَ قِسمُنا ما شَكَونا

    لِسِوى اللَهِ أَعدَلِ القُسّامِ

    And if our lot betrays us, we do not complain

    to anyone but God, the fairest of apportioners.

  7. كَيفَ تَنسى يا بابِلِيُّ غَريباً

    باتَ بَينَ الظُنونِ وَالأَوهامِ

    How can you forget, O Babylonian, a stranger

    who spent the night amid doubts and illusions,

  8. وَحَزيناً إِذا تَنَفَّسَ عادَت

    فَحمَةُ اللَيلِ جَمرَةً مِن ضِرامِ

    and a grieving man whose breath turns

    the night's coal-blackness into an ember of blazing fire?

  9. وَإِذا أَنَّ كادَ يَنصَدِعُ الأُف

    قُ وَتَعتَلُّ دَورَةَ الأَجرامِ

    And when he moans, the horizon almost splits,

    and the heavenly bodies' course grows sick.

  10. باتَ تَحتَ البَلاءِ حَتّى تَمَنّى

    لَو يَكونُ المَبيتُ تَحتَ الرَغامِ

    He spent the night beneath affliction until he wished

    that his lodging for the night were beneath the dust.