لِلَّهِ ما صَنَعَ الغَرامُ بِقَلبِهِ

أَودى بِهِ لمّا أَلبَّ بِلبِّهِ

What love has done with his heart

It led him to ruin when it drew him to itself

لَبّاهُ لَمَّا أَن دَعاهُ وَهكَذا

مَن يَدعهُ داعي الغَرامِ يُلَبِّهِ

It drew him when it called him, and so

Whoever love's allure calls, it draws to itself

بِأَبي الَّذي لا تَستَطيعُ لِعجبِهِ

رَدَّ السَلامِ وَإِن شَكَكتُ فَعج بِهِ

By my father, whom I cannot fathom his splendor

Returning the greeting though I doubted him, so be awed by him

ظَبيٌ مِنَ الأَتراكِ ما تَرَك الضَنا

أَلحاظه مِن سَلوَةٍ لِمُحِبِّهِ

A gazelle from the Turks, he left no intimacy

His glances of softness for his lover

إِن كُنتَ تُنكِر ما جَنى بِلِحاظِهِ

في سَلبِهِ يَومَ الغويرِ فَسَل بِهِ

If you deny what his gaze has reaped

In robbing him the day they mingled, then ask about him

أَو شِئتَ أَن تَلقى غَزالاً أَغيَداً

في سِربِهِ أَسَدُ العَرينِ فَسِر بِهِ

Or if you wish to find a plump gazelle

In his herd, the lion of the den, then go to him

يا ما أُمَيلحهُ وَأَعذَبَ ريقَهُ

وَأَعزَّهُ وَأَذَلَّني في حُبِّهِ

Oh how smooth his saliva is and how sweet his spittle

And most dignified is he, though he has humbled me by his love

أَو ما أُلَيطف وَرده في خَدِّهِ

وَأَرَقّها وَأَشدَّ قَسوَة قَلبِهِ

How gently pink are his cheeks

And most serene, though harsh are their hardness of heart

كَم مِن خِمارٍ دونَ خَمرَةِ ريقِهِ

وَعَذابُ قَلبٍ دونَ رائِقِ عَذبِهِ

How many wineskins devoid of the wine of his saliva

And the torment of a heart devoid of the bliss of his torment

نادى بِنَفسِجِ عارِضَيهِ تَعَمُّداً

يا عاشِقينَ تَمَتَّعوا مِن قُربِهِ

He purposely called out with the narcissus of his cheeks

Oh lovers, delight from his nearness!