ما ماسَ كقدّ مَن أُحبُّ البانُ

ما ماسَ كقدّ مَن أُحبُّ البانُ

ما راقَ كَحُسنِ وَجهِهِ بُستانُ

ما راقَ كَحُسنِ وَجهِهِ بُستانُ

Never has the bān tree swayed like the figure of the one I love.

What touched like your stature, whom I love

Never has a garden charmed like the beauty of his face.

What pleased like the beauty of your face, o garden

ذا الفرعُ يَرى العَنبَرَ عَبداً قَنّاً

ذا الفرعُ يَرى العَنبَرَ عَبداً قَنّاً

ذا الخَطُّ يَقول خادِمي رَيحانُ

ذا الخَطُّ يَقول خادِمي رَيحانُ

These locks regard ambergris as a slave by birth.

This branch sees amber as an obedient servant

This line of facial down says, 'Sweet basil is my servant.'

This line says my servant is basil