ما أَخطَأَ الوَردُ مِنكَ لَوناً

وَطيبَ ريحٍ وَلا مَلالا

The rose did no wrong in its hue

Nor with its fragrance sweet and true

أَقامَ حَتّى إِذا أَنِسنا

بِقُربِهِ أَسرَعَ اِنتِقالا

It stayed until we were used to its nearness

Then swiftly its leave it flew