غازلتني سمراء في حلية المر

د بدبوقة غزت بمظفر

A dark-complexioned woman flirted with me in the guise of beardless

youths; with a birdlime snare, she went to war with Muzaffar.

ثمَّ قالتْ تحبّني قلت في حل

ية سمرا واليوم حلية أسمر

Then she said, “Do you love me?” I said, “In the adornment

of a dark woman, and today in the adornment of a dark man,

إن كلِّي يحبُّ كلّك إلا

إن قلبي يحبُّ من فيك أكثر

all of me loves all of you, except

that my heart loves whoever is within you more.”

آه يا دهر صبوة وصباً قد

كان أزهى من النجومِ وأزهر

Ah, Time—for youthful passion and youth that once

were more splendid than the stars and brighter!

ليتَ ذهني يخلو فيخدم شعري

كلّ جدّ وكلّ هزل بجوهر

Would that my mind were free, so my poetry might serve

every earnest theme and every jest with gems.

ليتَ شعري يصفو كما كانَ قدماً

فعسى العمر ماحِياً ما تكدر

Would that my poetry grew clear, as it was long ago;

so perhaps the years will erase what has grown clouded.

إن أكن صرت بالبلادةِ فزعاً

إن لفظي كما يقال مسير

If I have become fearful through dullness,

indeed, my words are, as they say, widely circulated.