فَلا تُشمِت الحسّادَ شدَّةُ حالَتي

فَلا تُشمِت الحسّادَ شدَّةُ حالَتي

فَإِنّي جَوادٌ لا يشدُّ عنانُهُ

فَإِنّي جَوادٌ لا يشدُّ عنانُهُ

So let the severity of my plight not make the envious gloat.

So let not my harsh state make envious gloat

For I am a noble steed whose reins are not drawn tight.

For I'm a steed whose rein will ne'er be taut

وَما أَلصقت بالأَرضِ خدي إِدالَةٌ

وَما أَلصقت بالأَرضِ خدي إِدالَةٌ

وَلَكِنَّني كالرمحِ سُنَّ سنانهُ

وَلَكِنَّني كالرمحِ سُنَّ سنانهُ

And no reversal of fortune has pressed my cheek to the earth.

My cheek ne'er kissed the ground in lowly bent

But I am like a spear whose point has been sharpened.

But like a spear erect my figure flaunt