لاحَ لَنا عاطِلاً فَصِيغ لَهُ

مَنَاطِقٌ من مَرَاشِقِ المُقَلِ

No moment's vacant for us, so fashion it

Into a region from imagination's lands,

حياةُ رُوحي وفي لواحِظِهِ

حَتْفيَ بين النَّشاطِ والكَسَلِ

My spirit's life, and in its corners lies

Myself amidst activity and indolence.

ما خالُهُ من فَتيتِ عنبرِ صُدْ

غَيْهِ ولا قطْرِ صبغة الكَحَلِ

Untouched by any speck of fragrant musk

Or tincture-drop of kohl it lacked, but yet

لكنْ سُوَيْدَاء قلبِ عاشقِهِ

طَفَتْ على نارِ ورْدَةِ الخَجَلِ

The heart of her who loves it whitely pure

Has floated over passion flower's flame.