وَأَسعَدَتها أَكُفٌّ غَيرُ مُقرِفَةٍ

تَثني أَنامِلُها شِرعَ المَزاهيرِ

And her happiness was brought by hands unsoiled,

Their gently bent fingers plucking flowers' stems,

مِن كُلِّ غَيداءَ في تَفريدِها صَحَلٌ

كأَنَّ أَعكانِها طَيُّ الصَواميرِ

From every dewy branch in its solitude a gazelle,

As if her wrists were the curves of waterwheels.