وظَبْي دَعَتْني للحروب لِحاظُهُ
وهَيهات منْ تلكَ اللِّحاظ خَلاصُ
And my gazelle—his glances summoned me to war;
far, far beyond me was escape from those glances.
تصدَّى لحربِ المستهام وما له
سوى اللَّحظ سهمٌ والنقاب دلاصُ
He came forth to wage war on one maddened by love,
with only his glance for an arrow, his veil for a supple coat of mail.
فلمَّا أجَلْتُ الطَّرف أدْمَيْتُ خَدَّه
وأدمى فؤادي والجروحُ قِصاصُ
When I let my gaze roam, I made his cheek bleed;
he made my heart bleed—and wounds are requited in kind.
Sol 5.6