وقفت على ما سطرته الأنامل

فأصبح لي منه عن الروض شاغلُ

I stood before what my fingers had inscribed

So it became for me a preoccupation from the meadow

وشاهد طرفي منه نور خمائل

تبدت عليها للشموس مخايل

And my eyes witnessed from it the light of beautiful women

Upon whom imaginations of suns appeared

فمن ألفٍ كالغصن والهمز فوقها

حمامٌ وما غير السطور جداول

So from an “alif” like a branch and the hamza above it

Is a dove, and nothing but the lines are streams

كأن نهاراً ساطعاً قد تطلعت

عليه من الليل البهيم أوائلُ

It is as if a radiant daytime had risen

Upon it from the ignorant night, the beginnings

وإلا كأن الصبح ضاع من الدجا

وقد قيدته للظلام سلاسلُ

Or else it is as if the dawn was lost from darkness

And I had chained it to the darkness, chains

وإن شئت قل فيه عذارٌ منمنمٌ

بخد أسيلٍ واقفٌ وهو سائِلُ

And if you wish, say about it, it is perfumed wine

With a pouring cheek, standing while it is pouring