حَيَّتْكَ بِكْرٌ من بَنا

تِ الروْضِ أعْجَلَها ابْتِكارُ

A virgin bud from the garden's daughters

Hastened to bloom though not yet her season

طَلَعتْ لِغَيْرِ أوانِها

فَلِذاكَ ما اصفرَّ البَهارُ

Thus the spring flowers did not yet yellow

She came foretelling the approach of spring

جاءَتْكَ مُنْبِئَةً بإقْ

بال الرَّبيعِ لَها ابْتِدار

Adorned with myrrh, veiled in modesty

As though a cheek girt round with perfume

مَحْفُوفَةً بالآسِ مِنْ

هُ على مَحاسِنِها خِمارُ

فَكأنَّها ما بَيْنَهُ

خَدٌّ أحاطَ بِهِ عِذارُ