1. Let the eye shed today some of its debts,
For the tears of sorrow have slept with the eyelids.

2. The ropes of connection between me and the one who
Melted the cross of my heart with her softness.

3. So there is no patience, nor can the heart forget its passion,
And alas, the heart is not content without it.

4. We drank the cups of love and desire until they were empty,
So our softened hearts are watered from its spring.

5. When she saw me, she turned away in shy fear,
And the sign of what she hides is the fullness of her eyes.

6. Oh, what longing to reunite though it demolishes order,
The beauties have made us fuel for their eyelids.

7. I see my heart torn between two parts of a stick,
And suspicions have prevented closeness.

8. Do those who blame know that the passionate ones
See nothing but cutting the connection as cutting its vines?

9. Oh, the injustice that my overflowing tears have not extinguished,
And how can anything be rejected except her sword?

10. Oh, what sorrow that has permeated the deserted places,
Without reaching the stars of the horizon or her burial.

11. Such is love, its light obvious, yet when it hides
None can discover its ambush.

12. By myself and my family, if they mention her,
They arouse her dormant sorrows.

13. She is nothing but a frown, then a tear,
Her isolation has sharpened the winds of longing.

14. After this, what scripture and tradition
Can distance me from being indebted to her religion?

15. If the books of religions have separated us,
The pages of passion will unite us in its branches.

16. Even if the Bible forbids, corrupted as it is,
In the purity of the Qur'an is its solution and protection.

17. I seek refuge for you, O Lamiya, from the evil of a shy one
Who changes the whiteness of nights into their darkness.

18. Take me in spite of my defects as an ally, for if
The events recur, I will be a lion in its den.

19. The days have given birth until they brought me
Long ages, mature in their foreheads.

20. I boast of ancestry which the scent of wind passes by,
Their dust shone from the days of their burial.

21. To the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad
And the family of Abbas, the trustee's ancestor.

22. And from Abd Shams to the courageous and his uncle
Their towering branches have raised me to them.

23. And I have hosts like Harut, some of his soldiers
With whom the deer of the forest are protected from grief.

24. If the messengers of eloquence recite a verse,
They bow down prostrating to its taste.

25. If the composers of masterpieces were young girls,
The excellent archer is not like the son of Labunah.

26. And a beauty who used to direct her blame
At the one she distrusted, suspecting his suspicions.

27. Can there be doubt when the secret is as pure
As the public, if a soul purifies itself for its partner?

28. My heart is not perfect, nor is the perfume of musk –
The beauties of the houris and their eyes are superior.

29. I aspire to the character of Lamiya, it has
Taken from its heat with its resilience.

30. A shyness that removes doubt from its dwelling
When its verses are recited on the forehead.

31. A beauty of speech which does not bore to listen to
Like your repetition of breaths after their suppression.

32. It makes you forget the stories of narrators and what
Their breasts have held from its useless and fertile parts.

33. And knowledge of the propriety for a girl to step back
To where she was in her early centuries.

34. What girl resembles her? For with Khaled in love
There is none but her in it.