يا راكباً تقطُع البيداءَ همّتُه

O rider whose high resolve crosses the vast desert, while fast camels fail to reach what high aims attain.

Bear a message from a distant home to my lord Mu'in al-Din, whose affection remains close and whole.

And tell him: You are the best of the Turks, graced by modesty, religion, daring, and generosity.

And you are the fairest person to whom complaint is made, yet here you stand as both the accused party and the judge.

Is it right in this affair, O you whose governmental excellence and just conduct are a beacon among people,

to waste my rightful due after sincere counsel, safety, and loyal services have all borne witness for me?

I never thought you would forget the claims of our acquaintance, for among the wise, ties of acquaintance are sacred trusts.

Nor did I believe the love between us would ever snap, even if enemies stirred up trouble and gathered forces.

Yet your trusted confidants persisted in their deceit until lights and darkness became completely blurred in your eyes.

They sold you out for a cheap price, greedy for wealth—though had they lost you, total ruin and woe would have been theirs.

By God, they gave no sincere advice when you consulted them; every single one of them was driven by biased self-interest.

How many statements did they twist during their missions, and how hard did they strive for corruption, though their efforts failed!

Where is your protective zeal and proud spirit? They subjected you to a humiliating plan whose disgrace brands you.

Why did you not disdain, out of modesty or self-respect, an action condemned by both Arabs and foreigners alike?

You abandoned us while Indian swords stayed sheathed, and before the point of the long spear had tasted any blood.

I used to think that whoever sought your protection lived within a sanctuary untouched by gray hair or infirmity.

I thought your neighbor was like the neighbor of Samaw'al, fearing no foes and untouched by descending punishments.

Tuman is surely no more deserving of loyalty than Usama, but the pen of destiny has simply run its course.

Grant that we committed sins no excuse could wash away—what then was the crime of the children and the innocent women?

You threw them into the hands of the Franks, following the pleasure of enemies whose deeds incur the wrath of the Merciful.

They are your true enemies—may God protect you from their evil—yet by their own claim they are your helpers and servants.

Whenever you rose to build up glory, they lagged behind; whatever you constructed, they tore down.

And whenever a misfortune struck you from the days, every last one of them smiled at what made you weep.

Until the gloom cleared away from them through the sharp edge of your own resolute and slashing sword.

You drank a cup of life filled entirely with dregs, while their watering place from your bounty ran pure, cool, and sweet.

If a gossip brought them a fabricated tale about you, he was the one showered with gifts and treated with honor.

Everyone you turned away, they brought close; everyone who loved you was pushed away and abused.

Out of sheer insolence and ingratitude for the favors you bestowed—had they possessed any sense, they would know the pasture of tyranny is toxic.

Put them to the test just as I tested them so you may truly know them, for men reveal their true worth when put to trials.

Is there a single man among them capable of my role when the edge of sword and pen must clear away disasters?

Or is there one among them who, when a crisis straitens the hearts of men, possesses a striking hand and an eloquent tongue?

Yet your judgment brought them close and pushed me away; would that we could divide our portions according to our love!

I did not resent my banishment once you were pleased with it, for if your satisfaction is in it, a wound ceases to hurt.

I care little for departing from a land where noble falcons and worthless vultures are treated just the same.

My hand reached out to grab the ropes of the sun, then drew back empty-handed and filled with regret.

Yet your separation hurts and pains me deeply; within my ribs a fire burns fiercely.

So live on: as long as you breathe, time obeys my hand, and every hardship I suffer from it is a blessing.