أَمِنَ الأَهِلَّةِ والشموسِ خدودُ

ومن الذوابل والغصونِ قُدُودُ

The cheeks have become radiant from the crescents and the suns,

And from the branches and twigs are necklaces.

وعلى معاطفِ كلِّ أَهْيَفَ ناعمٍ

من مثل ما نَسَجَ الربيعُ بُرُود

On the mantles of every gentle gazelle,

Are the likes of what spring has woven as carpets.

أغصانُ بانٍ ما تميدُ بها الصَّبَا

وتمرُّ أَنفاسي بها فتميد

The branches of blossoming trees do not sway with the breeze,

And my breath passes through them, so they sway.

مُقَلٌ يُضِئْنَ من الجفون كأنها

بيضُ الصوارمِ والجفونُ غُمودُ

Eyes that shine from the eyelids as if they are

The whites of polished swords and the eyelids, scabbards.

أحداقُهُنَّ الزُرْقُ زُرْقٌ لُمَّعٌ

يومَ الكفاح وسودُهُنُّ أُسُود

Their blue eyes are shimmering blue,

On the day of struggle, and their blackness is pitch black.

لولا دماءُ العاشقين شَفَحْنَها

ما احمرَّ في وَجَناتها التَّوْريد

If it were not for the blood of lovers they shed,

The rose would not have reddened in their cheeks.

لم أَدْرِ قبلَ شفاهها وثغورِها

أَنَّ الشقائقَ حَشْوُهُنَّ عقود

I did not know before her lips and pores,

That anemones were their stuffing.

وارْفَضَّ من عَرَق الحياءِ جُمانُهُ

فتقلَّدَ الدُّرَّيْنِ منها الجيدُ

And sweat of shyness dripped from her cheeks,

So she wore the pearls from it as a necklace.

رقَّتْ معاقدُ أزْرِه فكأنَّما

تلكَ المعاطفُ ما بها تَجْسِيد

The knots of her mantle loosened, as if

Those mantles have no stiffening in them.

نشوانُ تجرحُ مقلتاه قلوبَنَا

فهو النزيفُ وَلَحْظُهُ العِرْبيد

Alluring eyes that injure our hearts with their glances,

For it is the bleeding, and their look, the blades.

إنْ كان مذمومَ الأَذِمَّةِ في العُلا

زمنٌ فمحمودُ العُلا محمودُ

If the heights are condemned in the times,

Then the heights are praiseworthy in themselves.