وَكاتبٍ شاعرٍ أَبدى بِمُهرَقهِ

نَظماً وَشعراً بِهِ بانَت فَضائِلُهُ

A writer, a poet revealed his virtues

Through prose and verse composed with skill

أَوَدُّ لَثمَ فمٍ بِالدُرِّ مَنطقُهُ

وَلَثمِ كَفٍّ ندٍ بِالدُرِّ نائِلهُ

I love to kiss the lips speaking pearls

And the palm of a generous giving hand

لَمّا أَبى ساخري مِن قُلةٍ لَهُما

قَبَّلتُ ما سَطَّرت فيهِ أَنامِلُهُ

When the mockers refused them little merit

I kissed what his fingers had penned

فَصارَ بَينَ فَمي وَبَينَ مَبسِمِهِ

طرسٌ كَفاني مِن المَحبوبِ وَاصِلُهُ

So my mouth and his smile were separated

By a screen denying me my loved one

أَمّا أَنا فَسَقيمُ الجسمِ ناحِلُهُ

وَمَن أكتِّم قاسي القَلب باخِلهُ

As for me, my body is emaciated and weak

And he whose heart is miserly conceals it

بَدرٌ عَلى غُصنٍ غُصنٌ عَلى كُثُبٍ

السحرُ كاحِلُهُ وَالحُسنُ شامِلُهُ

The moon on a branch, the branch on dunes

Dawn tender, beauty embracing it

إِني لقبحِ مقال أَنتَ تَعرِفُهُ

هَجَرتَني وَجَرى بِالهَجرِ قائِلُهُ

I know the ugliness of what I say you recognize

You deserted me though it pained the deserter

أَصفَرُّ مِن فَرَق يَربَدُّ مِن حَنَق

كَأنَّما نَحنُ مَقتولٌ وَقاتِلُهُ

I grow yellow with heartache, I smolder with rage

As though we are murdered and murderer

يَخافُ منّي اِفتِضاحاً في مَحبَّتِهِ

وَالزينُ يَأنَفُ مِن شَينٍ يُداخِلُهُ

He fears scandal regarding his love for me

Beauty disdains to mingle with disgrace

وَما دَرَت شَفتي حُبي فَتذكره

حَتّى كَأني بِمَن أَهواهُ جاهِلُهُ

My lips never disclosed my love, so he might recall it

As though the one I loved were unknown to me