يَا رُبَّ زَوْرٍ مُنْعِمٍ مزَارُهُ

يَلْحَفُهُ مِنْ لَيْلِهِ إزارُهُ

O Lord of a blessed, generous shrine

Oh, what a gracious visitor whose arrival is a delight,

His night garb trails around him

Wrapped in the cloak of his own night,

بَشَّرَبِي بِبَذْلِهِ زُنَّارُهُ

وَحُسْنُ خَدٍّ نَصَعَ احْمِرارُهُ

Gladden me with his gift of a necklace

His waistband announced to me his bounty,

And the beauty of a rosy cheek

With the beauty of a cheek whose redness shone pure;

يُفيتُ بِالْحُمْرَة جُلّنارُهُ

يُطْلِعُ مِنْها قَمْراً أَزْرَارُهُ

He shines with reddishness

His pomegranate blossom surpasses all in redness,

From it appears a moon, his blossoms

His buttons revealing a rising moon from within.

عَذِّرَ فِي عارِضِهِ عِذارهُ

فَأَعْجَلَ المُهْلَةَ لِي بِدارُهُ

He apologized for the defect in his cheek

The downy hair traced lines upon his jaw,

So he hastened the term to me in his home

And his haste cut short the delay for me,

جَرْيَ جَوَاد لَمْ يُخْفَ عِثارُهُ

يُؤْخَذُ مِنْ بُعْدِ بِقُرْبٍ ثارُهُ

A steed ran and left no trace of dust

Like the run of a steed whose stumbling is not hidden;

To be taken from afar in proximity is his vengeance

Revenge for distance is taken through nearness,

لا كانَ جَرْيٌ لَمْ يُثَرْ غُبارُهُ

It was not a running that left no dust swirling

May there be no run where the dust is not stirred.