ما زَهْرَةُ الدُّنيا سِوى زَهرةٍ

أطْلَعَها الحُسْنُ على غُصْنِ

The blossoms of this world are nothing but flowers

Whose beauty has bloomed on branches

زَهْرٌ لمن شَمَّ وغُصْنٌ لِمنْ

ضمَّ وتُفَّاحٌ لِمَنْ يَجْنِي

A flower for one who smells, a branch for one who holds

And fruits for one who plucks them

عاطِلةٌ قَدْ غَنِيَتْ عَنْ حُلىً

بِما بِمَرْآها مِنَ الحُسنِ

She needs no adornment with her beauty plain

As seen reflected in her mirror

لو نَعَتَ النَّاعِتُ شَمْسَ الضُّحى

ما خِلْتَهُ عن غَيْرِها يَكْنِي

If the describer described the radiant sun

He could not do justice, he would fall short

قد نَظَمَ الحُسْنُ بِها شَمْلَهُ

كأنَّها حَوْراءُ مِنْ عَدْنِ

Beauty has garlanded her with perfection

As if she was a houri from Eden

جاذَبتُها ضَمّاً إلى أضْلُعي

أُطفئُ عَنْها لَوْعةَ الحُزْنِ

I drew her close and held her to my chest

To extinguish in her the pangs of sorrow

فابْتَدَرَتْ وَجْنَتُها خَجْلَةً

غطَّتْ مُحَيَّا حُسنِها عَنِّي

She turned away, bashful, her cheek

Veiling with her beauty from my sight

يا عَجباً تَخْجلُ مِن ضَمَّها

ولا تُبالي كيفَ أصْمَتْنِي

How strange she's shy of being held

Yet cares not that she's slain me