English
The Kindness of My Lord
The many arts of kindness shown by my lord, the noble Majd al-Molk, made me his servant, and cost me nothing.
I was shamed by his slender pen: before I had even come near him, he rose to his feet for me.
Though I had not yet bowed to serve him like a curved wine flask, he filled my mouth with laughter, brimming like a cup.
What sorcery is in the tip of his pen, that with a single word it made me fall in love with him?
Though I had no easy way to feel at ease in his presence, still it left me longing for that place.
With graceful courtesy, from afar and with fingertip kindness, he greeted me first, outdoing me in nobility.
When his gracious address raised me high, the heavens honored me beyond all measure.
With the tip of his pen, which strings together the jewels of art, he arranged my scattered affairs like a necklace, giving them order.
When the sun of his glory shone on me from afar, I was a crescent, and he made me a full moon.
The tenderness with which he singled out this servant left me bound in gratitude for his boundless generosity.
What excuse can I offer for a care I hardly deserve? Through him fate took revenge on me for all its past cruelty.
With a single greeting he sent, remembering me, he set all the world's well-being under my name.
When the dawn of his fortune smiled upon my face, it filled my arms with stars, as if it were evening.
I have no words of apology in this matter; my helpless hand has laid itself upon my head, holding the reins.
I still hope to put my thanks to him into verse, for his kindness has turned every affair to my heart's desire.
I will trouble your noble self no further, for good manners, my teacher, have made me deliver this message.