1. I have no need for dancing girls when I have a boy,
Nor spiced wine when I can drink wine unmixed.

2. I shun right guidance for the paths of error,
And forbidded pleasures over that allowed.

3. I've turned away from gatherings and forsaken my excuse,
Letting ruin have its way with me.

4. For my misery's sake I've loved a gazelle,
Tender of glance, soft of speech.

5. His brow seems a moon that night shadows grace,
Veiled in darkness amid the sandy wastes.

6. He sees it a fault to don a shirt,
Or to wear a robe - a sin of sins!

7. He wears a short caftan of golden cloth,
Slim at the waist, conical his turban.

8. On his feet babouches soft beneath a cloak
Of brocade - spoils of feats of valor.

9. He rides off to war on foot at dawn
And fights with spears and arrows.

10. He storms the fray and there shows spirit keen,
Ever guarding, valiant in onslaught.

11. This is how I describe - not a girl I liken
In my ignorance to a boy.

12. Can one who's menstrual in every month
And whose womb yelps yearly be compared

13. To one I meet in secret and openly
And hope for his returning greetings?

14. I speak to him of all I wish frankly
Without fear of muezzin or imam.