O friend! A friend, truly, are you
To have noticed my iron legs,
And not the rotten part; the host of flies.
How pleasant was the fragrance
Which you thought to be that of buoyance?

O friend! A friend, truly, are you
To have noticed my tears in the rain.
Ah! You did not see at all,
For my tears was the rain.

O friend! A friend, truly, are you
To neglect my presence before came the sun:
When I was trying to kindle my candle,
But comprehend my presence when the sun rose.

O friend! Was it the scars on my shadow you saw
Or the shadows of my scar?
Whichever, both were mine.
Or did you not see at all?
A friend, truly, are you then.

By Abdulmalik Jibril