1. Yes, these are the abodes, so greet them
With the greeting of one enamored of their length

2. Grant me a standing, O Saad, wherein
You make me happy, be that one of them

3. Abodes whose right upon me is duty
Though upon lovers it’s become tradition

4. It suffices that my tear's halt when
The clouds of spring dry up their meadows

5. I’ve eyelids with tears that do not cease
Though comforts flow to them copiously

6. We complained of their weather, and hearts
From the distant scatter are tranquil

7. As for their gazelles, the does whose eyes
Passed, taking my blood their premier game

8. With them my tenderness, eyelids gained
Bared swords against me, honed their edges

9. As if their slender waists were lances’ points
Made for them from the keenest iron

10. When the branches of the acacia bend
Laden with their ripened fruits

11. I think my cheek’s dusk when it turned away
Was its companion as it turned from them