1. Or do you not see the beauty of the pond when it is clear,
Its banks in the garb of authentic white cloth.

2. The rays shine on the page of bright silver,
Like fire, so the palm of the kindler hopes for it.

3. By my life, the morning breeze wrinkled it,
If it would stay still in the hand of the toucher.

4. And the swimmer throwing himself on the light of the morning,
From his hair the wings of the penetrating darkness.

5. When he saw the emerald of loved ones and it cast
With its eyelids the heart of the miserable lover.

6. And the branch of acacia looked at its stature,
So it shook from envy like a black doe.

7. And the lightning smiles like a sword being drawn in
The likes of stormy clouds of the frowning sky.

8. It feared the students so it fled from it as protection,
Like a coat overflowing on the garments of the wearer.