1. With the flash of a smiling mouth, not the flash of frown,
I recalled my passion or forgot my composure.

2. The enemies did not attack me, rather
The gazelle of tender glances attacked the son of Adi.

3. Without drinking from the fountain of his face,
You will not be quenched by the water of springs.

4. How many martyrs in his presence have I witnessed,
Whose cheeks were watered by blood.

5. Do not deprive me of kissing him of its reward,
For my only intention was visiting the tomb.

6. Whenever you come to him at night to the fire of his cheek,
You will find the best fire near the best kindler.

7. It is not an excuse what I saw, though
It is the smoke of the cheek's ember in the fire of irritation.

8. He kissed me so the people would not know his affair,
So nothing of his eye was revealed to us stripped bare.

9. I told him: "Pay the alms tax to its people,"
For your face overflows with smoothness and tenderness.

10. I stood at the habib’s house answering me
Its echo, and does the echo quench the thirst of the echo?

11. I walked there with resolve, though the difficulty
Would break the patience of the resolute.

12. The winds complained of weariness to it,
As the wild cows complained that they cannot find their way.

13. Fear shortened its steps before it,
So the hyenas walked toward it fettered.

14. To a refuge whose covenant to its expanse
Was like the nest of a gazelle or the sky to the planets.

15. I recalled therein an easy, blessed life
With the company of the beloved who was most blessed.

16. The least of what calms the agony of longing for him
Is the easiest fulfillment of the promise.

17. One night we slept drunk with intoxication,
I flung my pillow then pressed it with my hand.

18. While my other hand remained a wrap, loosely binding
A waist, and at times a knot to the necklace.

19. We slept as one body from our embrace,
Else like a letter doubled in speech.

20. And I am drunk with passion—he did not cease
To meet me with every fervent kiss.

21. The shelter of glory in that house was like
The resting place of dew and generosity in that valley.

22. When the people claim glory, his glory
Is inherited from a master after master.

23. He has no shortcoming but pride for his people
Ancient, and generosity from his hands made new.

24. I blamed him when he walked alone
To glory, fearing the loneliness of the solitary.

25. His gifts wear out souls, as the repeated
Reciting of words wearies hearing.

26. In his hands is a pen—if it appears writing,
It is nothing but a polished sword.

27. As if the twists of script between its lines
Were smiles of pearls in lips of chrysolite.

28. It comes to you with unravelled sorcery, departing
From the convoluted ways of complex speech.

29. The virtues of the beloved of ornate speech embodied,
And the adornment of the envied epitome visualized.

30. So his nature will perfect what he does today,
And more perfect than it is what will come tomorrow.