أَتاني كِتابٌ مِنكَ يَنفُثُ بِالسِحرِ

أَتاني كِتابٌ مِنكَ يَنفُثُ بِالسِحرِ

وَلَكِنَّهُ بِالعَتبِ مُنتَفِخُ السَحرِ

وَلَكِنَّهُ بِالعَتبِ مُنتَفِخُ السَحرِ

A letter from you reached me, breathing magic,

A letter came to me from you, exhaling magic

Yet its lungs are swollen with reproach.

Yet inflated with reproach, its magic spoiled

يَضُمُّ عِتاباً مِن عُبابِكَ ذاخِراً

يَضُمُّ عِتاباً مِن عُبابِكَ ذاخِراً

وَلا عَجَبٌ إِذ ذاكَ مِن لُجَّةِ البَحرِ

وَلا عَجَبٌ إِذ ذاكَ مِن لُجَّةِ البَحرِ

It holds a swelling rebuke from your surging tide—

It carries plaint from your dark clouds

And no wonder, for that comes from the ocean’s depths.

No wonder, as it's from the sea's deep

فَأُشعِرتُ مِن تَعريضِهِ بِسِعايَةٍ

فَأُشعِرتُ مِن تَعريضِهِ بِسِعايَةٍ

رَمَتني بِها الرَعداءُ مِن حَيثُ لا أَدري

رَمَتني بِها الرَعداءُ مِن حَيثُ لا أَدري

From its insinuations I was made aware of a malicious report,

I felt from its allusion a plot against me

Hurled at me by the cowards from a quarter unknown to me.

Aimed by she of rumbling thunder unbeknownst to me

فَإِن يَكُ حَقّاً فَاِجعَلِ العَفوَ كَيدَهُم

فَإِن يَكُ حَقّاً فَاِجعَلِ العَفوَ كَيدَهُم

وَإِن يَكُ زَوراً فَاِتَّقِ اللَهَ في أَمري

وَإِن يَكُ زَوراً فَاِتَّقِ اللَهَ في أَمري

So if it is true, make pardon your stratagem against them;

If it be truth then pardon be their plot

And if it is false, fear God in your dealings with me.

If it be lies then fear God in my affair