1. I come, I come, O caller of play, from yearning
To cloaks like branches from yearning

2. The conversations are like lilies in meadows
The anklets are like bangles in pouring rain

3. To the cheeks of Roman girls that appeared
From their covers and turned the eyes of Arabs

4. From every traveler shying away from the shining East
In it two motifs of water and flame

5. And she laughs baring the implements or pebbles of hail
That almost drips from the water bag

6. Young men vie with her their faces molded
From pleasure and the most ardent from anger