نفسٌ لها مع كلِّ ريحٍ مذهبٌ

أبت السكونَ وإني منها آيسُ

A soul that flies off with every passing breeze

Refuses to be still though I despair of it

فكأنها اسمٌ معربٌ وكأني ما

أحتاج ما يحتاج دَنْفٌ بائسُ

As if it were an Arabic name declined

And I, what a wretched violin needs