الْمَقَامَةُ الْكُوفِيَّةُ

I knew by the truth of the signs that he was my son.

Mo mọ̀ nípa òtítọ́ àwọn àmì náà pé ọmọ mi ni.

But my empty hands prevented me from making myself known to him.

Ṣùgbọ́n ọwọ́ òfo mi dá mi lẹ́kun láti fi ara mi hàn án.

So I parted from him with a bruised heart.

Nítorí náà, mo fi ọkàn ìbànújẹ́ kúrò lọ́dọ̀ rẹ̀.

And overflowing tears.

Àti omijé tí ń sàn.

Have you heard, O people of understanding.

Ǹjẹ́ ẹ ti gbọ́, ẹ̀yin ọlọ́gbọ́n.

Of anything more wondrous than this wonder?

Nípa ohunkóhun tí ó yà ní ìyanu ju èyí lọ?

We said: No, by Him who has knowledge of the Book.

A sọ pé: Rárá, ní orúkọ Ẹni tí ó ní ìmọ̀ Ìwé Mímọ́.

He said: Record it among the wonders of coincidence.

Ó sọ pé: Ẹ kọ ọ́ sílẹ̀ láàrín àwọn ìyanu àṣesẹ̀ṣeyọ.

And immortalize it in the pages of books.

Kí ẹ sì fi ṣe ìrántí láéláé nínú àwọn ìwé.

For its like has not traveled in the horizons.

Nítorí irú rẹ̀ kò tí ì rìn ní gbogbo agbègbè.