“Thou call’st
  Thyself a Sunnite, yet thou knowest not
  The three great things their Author gave to us: 
  (He knows all secrets.) First is Paradise,
  Then the Koran, and then our Prophet great,
  Destroyer of false faiths and for all men
  The interceder.  Whosoe’er loves him
  Doth love the Arabs, too, and cleaves to them. 
  And whosoe’er hates them hates, too, in truth,
  The chosen one of God.  Thou hatest him,
  For thou revil’st my ancestors, and seek’st
  To lower their rank and vilify their fame. 
  Think on thine evil deeds, against the day
  When in thy grave thou’lt lie, and that one, too,
  When thou shalt rise again, insulter of
  The Arabs, king of peoples on the earth.”

  “The Arabs I do not at all despise,”
  The city woman said, “nor yet decry
  Their honor, and ’tis only on account
  Of thee I spoke against them.  But ’tis thou
  Who hast insulted all my family, and placed
  Thy race above.  He who begins is e’er
  At fault, and not the one who follows.  Thou
  The quarrel didst commence.  Pray God, our Lord,
  To pardon me, as I will pray him, too,
  And I the Arabs will no more attack. 
  If they offend me I will pardon them
  And like them for our holy prophet’s sake. 
  I shall awake in Paradise some day. 
  From them ’tis given, far beyond all price. 
  Frankly, I love them more than I do love
  Myself.  I love them from my very heart. 
  He who a people loveth shall arise
  With them.  And here’s an end to all our words
  Of bickering and mutual abuse.”

  I told them that it was my duty plain
  To reconcile them.  I accorded both
  Of them most pure intentions.  Then I sent
  Them home, and made agreeable the way. 
  Their cares I drove away with honeyed words. 
  I have composed the verses of this piece,
  With sense more delicate than rare perfume
  Of orange-flower or than sugar sweet,
  For those kind hearts who know how to forgive. 
  As for the evil-minded, they should feel
  The zeqqoum.  With the flowers of rhetoric
  My song is ornamented:  like the breast
  Of some fair virgin all bedecked with stones
  Which shine like bright stars in the firmament. 
  Some of its words will seem severe to those
  Who criticise.  I culled them like unto
  A nosegay in the garden of allusions. 
  May men of lion hearts and spirit keen—­
  Beloved by God and objects of his care—­
  Receive my salutations while they live,
  My countless salutations.

                              I should let
  My name be known to him who’s subject to
  The Cherfa and obeys their mighty power. 
  The mym precedes, then comes the written ha. 
  The mym and dal complete the round and make
  It comprehensible to him who reads
  Mahomet.  May God pardon me this work
  So frivolous, and also all my faults
  And errors.  I place confidence in him,
  Creator of all men, with pardon free
  For all our sins, and in his mercy trust,
  Because he giveth it to him who seeks.