قالَتْ وَقَدْ فَتَكَتْ فينا لَواحِظُها

كَمْ ذَا أَمَا لِقَتيلِ الحُبِّ مِنْ قَوَدِ

She said, when her glances had already ravaged us:

“How long? Is there no blood-requital for love’s slain?”

وأَمْطَرَتْ لُؤْلُؤاً مِنْ نَرْجِسٍ وَسَقَتْ

وَرْداً وَعَضَّت عَلَى العُنَّابِ بِالْبَرَدِ

And she rained pearls from narcissus and watered

a rose, then bit into jujube-fruit with hail.

إِنْسِيَّةٌ لَوْ رَأَتْها الشَّمْسُ ما طَلَعَتْ

مِنْ بَعْدِ رُؤْيَتِها يَوْماً عَلى أَحَدِ

A mortal woman—had the sun beheld her, it would never have risen

after beholding her, ever again upon anyone.

كَأنَّما بَيْنَ غاباتِ الجُفُونِ لَها

أُسْدُ الحِمامِ مُقيماتٍ عَلى الرَّصَدِ

As though, between the forests of her eyelids,

lions of death abide, posted in ambush.