1. Ghosts of past ruins, no good in them,
When the winds blow, they quiver and shake,

2. Corridors where the winds howl over their particles,
And at night the vipers slither through them,

3. Nor did I follow the gazelles at dawn’s blossom,
My journey was on the cheeks of the beauties,

4. No graceful doe crossed my mind,
Nor what my eyes engraved on the sand dunes,

5. As if they were remnants of worn out tents,
At times sealed, at others bursting open,

6. I see my two early birds changed,
To me, so I have no substitute for them,

7. They counted me from below barefoot,
While from above, they were two guides,

8. To a blond, as time and people are fickle,
And as we orbited in childhood blissfully,

9. So I may approach the white fluttering of the courtyard,
Of evil intention, hostility and malice,

10. As if her cheeks when she dons the veil,
And stands with the composure of a gentle mare,

11. Bite bodies that meet them,
And their flexing is of swaying branches,

12. Under them two dimples, stricken,
By a line of beauty marks, overflowing,

13. Blondie, how many sighs you have let me taste,
And sorrows that squeezed the eyes with sadness,

14. If my lovesick eyes shed blood instead of tears,
They would shed blood copiously, pouring out,

15. So, my two companions, if you fear her loss,
Cry out to me, when calling out longingly,

16. alternate rhythms for the wandering gaze, when it languishes,
Vigilant of our hatred, cautious.