1. هَل يَجتلي لَحظي رياضَ نقوشِ

    قَد فُوّفَت بِأناملِ البكّوشِ

    Does my gaze behold gardens of ornament,

    adorned by the fingers of al-Bakkush?

  2. وَتزفُّ في طرسٍ إليّ فَأَجتَني

    قَطفَ المُنى مِن روضِها المعروشِ

    And they are borne to me on a page, so I pluck

    the harvest of wishes from their trellised garden.

  3. وَأعلُّ حرَّ جَوانِحي بنَسيمها

    وبِزَهرِها وبطلِّه المرشوشِ

    And I quench the heat in my breast with their breeze,

    and with their blossom and its sprinkled dew.

  4. وَتقيلُ آمالي الّتي قَد أهجَرَت

    في ظلّها ذي السندسِ المفروشِ

    And my hopes, which have journeyed in noonday heat, rest

    in their shade, carpeted with fine silk brocade.

  5. وَأَرى جَداوِلها سيوفاً جرّدت

    لِقتال محلي من غمودِ رقوشِ

    And I see their streams as swords unsheathed

    from scabbards of ornament to combat my drought.

  6. تُجلى بها بيضُ المعاني خرّداً

    مِن خلفِ سودِ ولائدِ الأحبوشِ

    Through them, fair meanings are unveiled as shy maidens

    from behind black Abyssinian slave girls.

  7. وَيُرى بها ملكُ البلاغةِ سامياً

    في سودِ راياتٍ وبيض جيوشِ

    And in them the king of eloquence is seen exalted

    amid black banners and white armies.