أَبَا الْمَحَاسِنِ أَمَّا أَنْتَ ذَا غُرَرِ

رَشَقْتَ قَلْبِيَ بِالأَهْدَابِ وَالشُّفُرِ

O master of beauties, adorned with radiant traits,

You have pierced my heart with the arrows of your lashes and eyelids.

أَهْوَاكَ جَهْدِي وَمَا تَهْوَى سِوَى ضَرَرِي

مَنْ مُنْصِفِي مِنْ سَقِيمِ الطَّرْفِ ذِي حَوَرِ

I love you with all my might, yet you desire nothing but my ruin,

Who will grant me justice from the one with languishing, dark-contrasted eyes?

رَكِبْتُ بَحْرَ الْهَوَى فِيهِ عَلَى غَرَرِ

ظَبْيٌ شَمَائِلُهُ لاَ عُدِمَتْ عُدِمَتْ

For him, I have sailed the sea of passion at great peril.

A gazelle whose qualities—may they never perish—are wholly devoid

رِقَّتُهَا لِقُلُوبٍ بِالْهَوَى احْتُدِمَتْ

ظَبْيٌ بِطَلْعَتِهِ الْحِسَانُ قَدْ خُتِمَتْ

Of tenderness for hearts blazing with passion.

A gazelle with whose countenance the roll of beauties is sealed,

ظَبْيٌ لَهُ صُورَةٌ فِي الْحُسْنِ قَدْ قُسِمَتْ

بَيْنَ الْكَثِيبِ وَبَيْنَ الْغُصْنِ وَالزَّهَرِ

A gazelle whose beautiful form has been apportioned

Between the sand dune, the swaying branch, and the flower.

وَصُورَةٌ أُجْمِلَتْ لَفْظاً فَفَصَّلَهَا

رِدْفٌ وَقَدٌّ وَثَغْرٌ مَا لَنَا وَلَهَا

And a form summed up in a word, then detailed by:

Heavy hips, a slender waist, and a radiant mouth—what are we to do with them?

لَقَدْ قَضَى نَحْبَهُ صَبٌّ تَأَمَّلَهَا

آلَتْ لَوَاحِظُهُ أَنْ لاَ يَعِيشَ لَهَا

The lover who contemplates them has surely met his end;

His piercing glances have sworn that none shall survive them—

صَبٌّ وَلَوْ أَنَّهُ فِي قَسْوَةِ الْحَجَرِ

No lover, even if he possessed the hardness of stone.