1. Why has she not drawn me into her thoughts,
As white as the sun at its zenith?

2. She turned to her reproacher, and yet
Twas only to my misfortune she turned.

3. Alike are her utterances, fair and foul,
And the tinkling of her anklets.

4. Peerless is she, though blamers find fault.
To me naught is fairer than her allure.

5. With beauty she is laden, but passion for her
No man can hope to obtain.

6. My heart was not a bird passionately in love,
Had my eye not fallen upon her likeness.

7. She is tyrannous with the love she inspired in me,
Fearing no rebuke for her deeds.

8. Had my patience flowed in the night of love,
The stalker would have seized it from her imagination.

9. A morning whose rise was peerless,
Save when the full moon was eclipsed at her crescent's advent.

10. She is bashful, daughter of the sand dunes, and a paradise -
Curse upon my grandfather! Hers is the negligence.

11. She captivates me with saliva and glances. In her sweetness is my doom,
In her aloofness, my destruction.

12. I despair, and despair is sibling to attaining.
So I hope not for union or even a glance.

13. Our bodies have become like letters spelling out
The names of lovers from their deeds.

14. O rider who challenged the neighborhood!
Dismount, for the mare has slipped her bridle.

15. Tell the women of the tribe about her coquetry -
All prisoners hope for is her respect.

16. Who will lead me to her abode
And the stance of lovers before her ruins?

17. And the laughing cheeks with his rod,
Blowing gently, gazing upon her gazelle.

18. Desire has not crept into his smooth cheek,
But the line of illusion gleamed on its polish.

19. As if the ribs of her litter flanked with grace,
Were dyed with henna from her plaits.

20. Brides with trailing sleeves, their hems -
Had it not been for my dignity, I'd have kissed them.

21. How many slain minds by the sword of her stream,
From her dangling tresses!

22. Her secluded evening gatherings please me,
And the outstretched canopy of her shade.