1. O you who blame me, what is it to you if I yearn and grieve?
The way of the praised one is not the way of the one reviled.

2. The eye of error is my punishment for the curl of error,
While he gazes with a lazy eye.

3. And a Turkish tooth, so how bloodstained
From his blood-stained cheek?

4. Marvel at him, a young man who grew up coddled,
Assailing a lion, made bold.

5. With narcissus-like eyes and cheeks like ripe fruit,
A complexion in them the color of violet.

6. He yawns, baring teeth like freshly picked anemones,
Whose gathered nectar was untouched.

7. He shoots his bow and casts his glances,
So his arrows never miss their mortal mark.

8. Does blame befit a comely youth
Atop a dune under a full white moon?

9. His talk, his singing, his answers
Are dearer to my heart than almonds and narjis.

10. Were it not for the green of his perfect excuses,
The garden of love would have no fence.

11. If Bedouin in Najd saw his beauty,
They’d never attribute it to al-Hawdaj.

12. And they’d see the eyes of Turks swiftest in battle,
More deadly against every armed and crowned man.

13. Marvel at legs without unsteadiness,
Pillars around a swaying waist.

14. O excellent were the days of my youth’s prime,
Like days of flourishing, exuberant spring,

15. When I kept company with wine amidst
Green youth like a cup of pure wine.

16. The plants between what is turbaned and fezzed,
The meadow between what is perfumed and embroidered.

17. The water between what is camphor and ambergris,
And musk pods and chains and trinkets.

18. The birds between those singing and cooing,
The flowers between what is false and parted.

19. I was compensated for the camphor of hoary old age
With the musk of callow, extravagant youth.

20. End with good, my God, bestowing favor,
O best of those called upon and most generous of those hoped for.