Mu'tamid's lament in prison

In my breast, A wail of grief, Without any spark or flash, Alone survives, Passionless, ineffectual.

A free man is in prison today, Without a spear or a sword; Regret overwhelms me And also my strategy.

My heart Is drawn by instinct to chains. Perhaps my sword was of the same steel.

Once I had a two-edged sword– It turned into the chains that shackle me now. How whimsical and indifferent Is the Author of fates.