كَيفَ القَرارُ لِمُهجَتى وَعُيونُه

عَن صَفحَة البيض المَواضى راوِيَه

How can I find peace when his eyes

Are narrators of the white page's beauty?

آها لَها مِن مُهجَة ثبت بِها

نار وَما دَرى العَواذِل ما هيه

Alas, what a passion has settled in me,

A fire - though the maidens know not what it may be.

شَوق تَكون مِن سَعير مُحرِق

لا غرو اِن يُدعي بِنار حامِيَه

A longing that burns and destroys,

No wonder it's called a blazing fire.

قَضَت اللَواحِظَ بِالصُدودِ وَما رَئَت

يا لَيتَها كانَت بِوَصلِ قاضِيَه

Glances have judged, yet never seen -

If only they were a judge decreeing union!