English
In Praise (Another by the Same Poet)
You generous one, in whose praise
even the universal Intellect has worn out its tongue.
The earth became dust beneath the feet of your resolve,
while your bounty rubs against the heavens like the river of paradise.
The sea and the mine closed their hands in defeat
the moment your open-handed giving spread its fingers wide.
The stars do only what your fortune commands them,
down to the very root of their teeth, with all their being.
The pen found its bond with your fingertip;
that is why it now weeps gold as ink.
The inkwell set its heart on praising you,
and for that its mouth is smeared with musk.
For a while now your noble mind
has been left in peace from this servant's headache of words.
I have caused you only a slight trouble,
one I have refined of all its idle filler.
In these past day or two, your servant too,
by your good fortune, has found some relief and opening.
Above a hundred thousand virgin daughters,
last night a son showed his face.
He hurried well to arrive,
as if he had heard the fame of your name.
Quickly arrange his name and his livelihood,
for a new joy and celebration has increased around you.