اُنْظرْ إِلى السِّحرِ في عينيهِ والدَّعَجِ

كأنَّ أَجفانَهُ مَرْضى مِن الغُنُجِ

Behold the magic in his eyes, and the languor,

As if his eyelids were sick with longing.

لَهُ مِنَ الدُّرِّ عِقْدٌ تَحْتَ شارِبِهِ

وَفَوْقَ أَصْداغِهِ لامانِ مِن سَبَجِ

Around his neck he wears a necklace of pearls

Above his temples dangles a shiny pendant.

تَظُنُّ من خَجَلٍ تَوْريدَ وَجْنَتِهِ

وَاللَهِ ما ذاكَ إِلا مِنْ دَمِ المُهَجِ

You’d think the blush upon his cheek was his skin showing through,

But no, it’s just the blood of slain hearts.