ما ثَغرُكَ يا مُناي كالإِغريضِ

ما ثَغرُكَ يا مُناي كالإِغريضِ

كَالثَّغر بِهِ عَلى الرَدى تَحريضي

كَالثَّغر بِهِ عَلى الرَدى تَحريضي

Your mouth, O my heart’s desire, is not like palm blossom;

Your smile, O Mnaya, like a revealing,

It is like a frontier: through it I am urged toward death.

Your smile reveals your teeth against your cheek

لَولا ظُبَّةُ الحُسام أَرويهِ دَماً

لَولا ظُبَّةُ الحُسام أَرويهِ دَماً

ما قُلتُ بِتَوريد خُدود البيضِ

ما قُلتُ بِتَوريد خُدود البيضِ

Were it not for the edge of the sword I slake with blood,

If not for the swords' light, I would water them with blood

I would not have spoken of making the fair ones’ cheeks rose-red.

I would not describe the cheeks of the fair ladies