لم أنسَهُ والقوسُ في يدِهِ

يرمي غَزالاً مثلَهُ فَرِقَا

I did not forget him with his bow in hand

Shooting a gazelle the same as him completely infatuated

والركضُ يفتحُ فوقَ وجنتِهِ

ورْداً ويملأُ وردَهُ عَرَقَا

And running opens above his cheeks

A rose filling its pink with sweat

ورمَى بسهمَيْ مقلةٍ ويَدٍ

نحرَ الغزالِ وقلبَ من عَشِقَا

And he shot with two eyelids and a hand

Slaughtering the gazelle and a heart from passion

باللّهِ ما أدري وقد نَفَذا

أأصابَ عمداً أو كما اتَّفقَا

By Allah, I do not know, and after they pierced

Whether he hit deliberately or as coincidence willed