1. Overflowing souls with their passions,
While their ardors conceal what is within them.

2. No anguished heart has been fair, complaining
Of its love to other than its loved ones.

3. Show me a longing in the darkness,
Not all love stems from its causes.

4. The nobility of love is that hopes
Do not buy its torment with their reasons.

5. Among the flock is a beautiful doe
Who shares her beauty among her friends.

6. The full moon gets what’s above her buds,
And the branch gets what’s below her dress.

7. It's as if I panicked with her in the dark wilderness,
Shying away at her prayer niche.

8. I follow her with a hasty glance
That trips my eyes on her veils.

9. Whenever he wishes, he plucks the rose of her cheeks,
And the palms are sufficient to protect it with their claws.

10. It’s enough that memories of her company
Pass by the cold of her fangs.

11. That the sparks of passion glitter,
Even if they inflame me with their flames.

12. And how many smooth fields between those encampments
Are counted as some of its meadows?

13. Who told my envious ones that I
Have given up my wishes for her seekers?

14. If she presents herself, she will not find
My heart distracted by some of her suitors.

15. The noble scribes are pleased
When my praise knocks on her doors.

16. There she is, before lifting the veil,
Smiling at me with the joy of her veil.

17.
Purify my ardour from its sorrows,

18. And turn away from the fruit of its branches.
Know that the clothes of chastity

19. Are the most beautiful attire for its inmates.
I made the mirage like its leaves,

20. And the lightning flashed with its departures.
Had I wished, I would have sent her as a raid

21. To return to me with her captives.
But I am infatuated with her love,

22. So how can I compete for her company?
Men are humiliated by their greed for her

23. Like the humiliation of slaves for their masters.

24. So do not pluck the fruits of wishes,
Evil is the extract of its grapes.

25. Wonder, my father Abu Qasim,
So virtues may come from her door.

26. Beautiful are the meadows for her visitors,
And excellent is the land for her choosers.

27. Valleys, for those who want her water,
Clouds draw from some of her drinking places.

28. To the Kaaba of generosity, from my palms,
Caravans tie their supplies.

29. Her virtues are like the number of sand grains,
Almost tiring the fingers of its counter.

30. And exhausting the tongues of its reciters,
And ending the books of its writers.

31. You have exceeded the limit of the eloquent’s attributes,
So her praise is like its confused.

32. Goods diminish unless the thanks
Are counted as more profitable than its gains.

33. By the mouths of her praisers
You’d think it a potion passed in cups.

34. From it, the palms of hope handshake
The ripe fingers and its fervent.

35.
As if requests at its stream

36. Are cups competing with their poles.
If the land complained of barrenness,

37. He treated it by fertilizing it with his clouds.
Of the group realizing the heights

38. With their calculations and lineages.
They protected against the days of its twists,

39. And protected against the lion in its jungles.
They managed the loyalty of men’s hearts

40. With its incentives, then its threats.
The treasures of its praises and eulogy

41. Are the riches of its descendants.
You see nothing but its beauty

42. Engraved on the cloth of its clothes.
You wonder at the beauty of its joy,

43. Until you see the beauty of its manners.
The generous morals

44. Take the place of its nicknames.
It was bored by the days of this time,

45. Dragging the trains of its gowns.
The position of blackness to its sights,