إِنَّ اِبنَ حَربٍ جادَ لي كاسِياً

بِطَيلَسانٍ هَرِمَ قَشمِ

The son of Harb generously offered me a cup

Of aged, smooth wine

اُنظُر إِلى كَثرَةِ تَمزيقِهِ

كَأَنَّما مُزِّقَ في مَأتَمِ

Look how torn it is

As if it was ripped at a funeral

رَفوي لَهُ وَهوَ رَميمٌ كَمَن

يَبني بِناءً قَوفَ مُستَهدَمِ

I spurn it, though it is precious, like one

Who builds a roof then knocks it down

يَصدَعُهُ اللَحظُ بِإيماضِهِ

صَدعَ فُؤادِ العاشِقِ المُغرَمِ

Its flashing dazzles the eye

Like the heart of a lovesick, passionate man

يُذَكِّرُني كَثرَةُ تَمزيقِهِ

تَفَرُّقَ الناسِ عَنِ المَوسِمِ

Its many tears remind me

Of people scattering from the holy place