1. وَأَوجُهٍ مِثلَ مَصابيحِ الدُجى

    لَو شُرِبَ السُمُّ عَلَيها ما لُفِظ

    And faces like lamps in the darkness—

    Were poison drunk in their presence, it would not be spat out.

  2. أَهدَيتُها بَعدَ النَعيمِ لِلبَلى

    فَيا لَها مَوعِظَةٌ لَو إِتُّعِظ

    I offered them, after bliss, to decay.

    So what a lesson, if only heed were taken!

  3. أَضَعتُها حينَ أَرَدتُ حِفظَها

    وَكَم أَضاعَ المَرءُ مِن حَيثُ حَفِظ

    I lost them when I meant to preserve them.

    And how often one has lost through the very act of preserving!