1. Your cruelty has made the graceful gazelles grieve,
Why then deny it when tears bear witness?

2. The tender branches crave it, though modesty veils them,
And their fruit is passion and love's madness.

3. Though you keep calling to them with your eyes,
Your dark lids belie the white eyes beneath.

4. How often a saucy glance made you turn away shyly
Only to turn back saying, I will not return, yet you do.

5. With your intoxicating movements you have fettered my resolve
To patience, binding fast its links.

6. The shining brightness of your cheeks moves gently,
Though my lines shake, their maker is resolute.

7. Strange that he should walk on and no hand of man
Obstructs him, though he stumbles straight ahead.

8. I did not know that the down on his cheek
Was a partner that enables the hunters to catch their prey.

9. I sensed the gazelle so hearts are wounded,
Why then are fingers and cheeks bloodied?

10. Like pure white silver, but his heart
Is harsh to lovers, it is of iron cast.

11. You are amazed that it is not generous, but then
The wonder of love is that it spends the night yet gives nothing away.

12. Soft of touch, but his touch is harsh,
Unyielding even to David's touch.

13. He has made off with hearts, so he acts like an oppressor,
And in it is the way of the evildoer and the tyrant's law.

14. And since happiness pushed me to passion
I strew the tears of my eye on it like pearls.

15. I did not weep in ignorance of weeping, but
Farewells, as you know, are hard indeed.

16. What is this, O Amr, my first stand
Where the dear one is brought low and the coward bold.

17. You denied his tears, but there is no wonder
In water bursting forth from solid ice.

18. That is only because your heart is safe
From the anguish of separation, and it is strong.

19. Haraan is wakeful though hearts are tranquil,
Love sick and wakeful while eyes sleep.

20. With my angry soul love brings me sickness,
And remoteness from it, and in fantasy it returns.

21. It prides itself on what the veil has hidden, so its light
Is like the distant, inaccessible moon.

22. Wondrous that one who is absent should point the way,
And I am abased while the proud king is slain.