1. My gazelle from the Turks has exquisite beauty
In his hands are my life if he wishes, and my death
١. وَظَبي مِنَ الأَتراكِ قانَ مَحاسن
لَدَيهِ حَياتي إِنْ يُردْ وَمَماتي
2. So between the black eyes lies my red death
And between the brown lips, from him, is my life
٢. فَبَين العُيونِ السودِ مَوتي أَحمَر
وَبَينَ الشّفاهِ السّمرِ منهُ حَياتي