1. My excuses were not evident until they blamed me,
And gloom walked on his cheek, so it was confused,

2. The tips of his mustache wanted to kiss his mole,
So his glances unsheathed towards it a dagger,

3. By Allah, if it weren't said I changed,
And youth, even if aging is more appropriate,

4. I would have turned the apples of his cheeks into violets,
With a kiss, and the musk of his down into ambergris.