Shall I rise or set, O Said,
and diminished my will, or increase
come back to me, About Nusaibin, Al-Awadi
I succeeded in it, dull
I see deprivation the farthest is near
with it, And success is the closest to it
lands throw me away from mine,
As if I had a stray news between them
and with sajour, from Thul bin Amr,
jacks of young men catch
If the pigeons squat down there they said,
excessive longing, Where is the newborn baby?
and where it is contingent upon eternity,
wretched in his misery, runaway
And time left me with people,
Their faces and their hands are iron
they have good robes, they are white,
and verbs of incarceration, they are black
the manners of mules, every day
denotes to some of them a new character
And most of what they have that asks them,
if he came, they say: Return
A promise not known from a frown
their fists, a promise or a feast
people, If Lapid had contemplated them,
The successor who complained to Labid cried
Would not the predestination not be appreciative,
You were not the grandparents and the grandparents
See which of us is dying, and touched
He has these processions, and the slaves
If wealth were a good fortune,
For the Christians and the Jews to make a mistake
But the time is a bad time,
The wrangler does what he wants
I made him happy over a noble people,
And I felt it for the people of Saud
Is it brighter or stranger, O Said – the poet al-Buhturi?
