1. You sent her, fresh as the slit throat,
Early, when all good is in the early,

2. Wrapped in shifts as green, yellow, and red
As young sprouts. She grazes her neck

3. And trails her skirts over her breasts.
White-skinned, blue-eyed, like a sliver

4. Of sunrise when it peers through the azure dawn.
Her fingers like drops of melted ruby,

5. Giving freely to her lord's desire.
She came to the one who knit her body

6. With his soul, mistress of the flowers.
Whenever she came, trailing sweet scent

7. Into an assembly, she ruled their sweet scent.
A scion of the rose, like you, sprung from

8. Your father, mighty and fated.
So this one returned to his branch

9. And that left you for the grave.
If you have revived with her a musk-pod,

10. Then verses about her are like seeds scattered.
The persian poet of dew has not wasted

11. Arabic words of praise and thanks.