طرفه يجرح الفؤاد وطرفي

يقطف الورد من محياه قاني

His glance wounds my heart though his is

Plucking roses from his rosy cheek

لست أشكو منه ولم يشك مني

وكلانا في الحسن والحب جان

I don't complain of him nor does he of me

We are equal in beauty and love