طافَ الخَيالُ وَلاتَ حينَ تَطَرُّبِ

أَن زارَ طَيفٌ موهِناً مِن زَينَبِ

Imagination wandered when she was merry

As if a gentle vision of Zainab visited

طَرَقَت فَنَفَّرَتِ الكَرى عَن نائِمٍ

كانَت وِسادَتُهُ ذِراعَ الأَرحَبي

It startled the birds from a sleeping one

Whose pillow was the wide arm

فَبَكى الشبابَ وَعَهدَهُ وَزَمانَهُ

بَعدَ المَشيبِ وَما بُكاءُ الأَشيَبِ

So he wept for his youth, his time

After aging, though the old do not weep