خدّاه وردٌ وعارضاهُ

آس ومن ريقه المدامه

Her cheek is a rose and her cheekbone a branch,

Her saliva is wine and her mouth a cup,

إذا بدا وانثنى وغنّى

فالبدرُ والغصن والحمامه

When she smiles, leans, and sings,

The moon, the branch, and the dove.

ما سلّ سيف اللّحاظ إلا

ناديتُ يا كاتب السّلامه

No sword has touched her glances except

I called, “O writer of safety!”