1. I stood before what my fingers had inscribed
So it became for me a preoccupation from the meadow

2. And my eyes witnessed from it the light of beautiful women
Upon whom imaginations of suns appeared

3. So from an “alif” like a branch and the hamza above it
Is a dove, and nothing but the lines are streams

4. It is as if a radiant daytime had risen
Upon it from the ignorant night, the beginnings

5. Or else it is as if the dawn was lost from darkness
And I had chained it to the darkness, chains

6. And if you wish, say about it, it is perfumed wine
With a pouring cheek, standing while it is pouring