هِيَ الوَجنَةُ الحَمراءُ وَالشَفَةُ اللَميا
لَقَد تَرَكاني في الهَوى مَيِّتاً حَيّا
She is the red rose and the moist lip,
They left me dying yet living in passion,
هُما أَلبَسا جسمي سَقاماً وَأَورَثا
فُؤادي غَراماً حِملُهُ الصَبَّ قَد أَعيا
They clothed my body with illness and bequeathed
My heart with love, a burden beyond bearing,
فَمِن مُهجَتي نارٌ وَمِن مُقلَتي حَيا
مَتى اِشتعلَت هَذي تَزيد ذا جريا
From my forehead comes fire and from my eyelid, a serpent,
When one is lit, the other grows fiercer,
وَبي مَن إِذا ناجَيته ذُبتُ هَيبَةً
وَجانَبتُهُ جَهراً وَهمتُ بِهِ خِفيا
And in me is one whom when I whisper to him I melt in awe
And openly avoid while secretly yearning for him
مَليحٌ إِذا ما لاحَ أَبهتَ من رَنا
فَأَردى الَّذي أَنأى وَأَحيا الَّذي حيّا
Handsome when he appears, outshining the bright full moon
Laying low those far and reviving those nearby
عَليمٌ بنِيّاتِ النُفوسِ وَما حَوَت
كَأَنَّ لَهُ مِن نَحوِ أَسرارِها وَحيا
Knowing the intentions of souls and what they contain
As if he has revelation concerning their secrets
تَجَمَّعَت الأَضدادُ فيهِ مَحاسِناً
فَعبستُهُ مَوتٌ وَبَسمَتُه مَحيا
Contradictions come together in him beautifully
His frown is death and his smile is life
وَغُرَّتُهُ بَدرٌ وَطُرَّتُهُ دُجىً
وَأَعطافُه ظَمأى وَأَردافُه رَيّا
His face the full moon and his profile is night shadows
His movements invite thirst and his waist rain clouds
أَعارَ اِعتِدالاً كُلَّ غُصنٍ كَمثلِ ما
أَعارَ السَنى وَالناضِرَ الشَمسَ وَالظَبيا
He parallels the balance of every swaying branch
As he parallels the houris, the shining sun and the gazelles
وَأَخجلَ نورَ الشَمسِ لَما تَقابَلا
فَحُمرتُهُ إِذ غابَ من فَرط ما اِستَحيا
And dims the light of the sun when they meet
For his shyness from the intensity of his modesty
عَجِبتُ لِخالٍ حَلَّ في وَسطِ أَنفِهِ
وَعَهدي بِهِ وَسطَ الخُدودِ يرى وَشيا
I wondered at a mole settling amidst his nose
When I was used to it being amidst his cheeks attractively
وَلَكنَّما خَدّاهُ فيهِ تَغايَرا
هَوىً فَاِبتَغى مِن وَجهِهِ أَوسَطَ الأَشيا
But when his cheeks quarreled over it
Passionately seeking the midpoint of his face
وَحُسنُ الفَتى في الأَنف وَالأَنفُ عاطِلٌ
فَكَيفَ إِذا ما الخالُ كانَ لَهُ طَيا
The beauty of a youth is in his nose while the nose is useless
So what when the mole takes residence in it
أَيا باخِلا حَتّى بِتَقبيلِ كَفِّهِ
عَلى مَن سَخا حَتّى بِحوباه في الدُنيا
O miserly one, even to kiss his palm
To one generous even with his cheekbone in life
أَلَم تَدرِ أَنّي طوعُ حُسنِكَ دائِماً
وَقَلبيَ لا يَعصِيك أَمراً وَلا نَهيا
Don’t you know that I always obey your beauty
And my heart disobeys neither your order nor prohibition
