عجُوزٌ لَعمْرُ الصّبا فانِيهْ

لها في الحشَا صُورةُ الغانِيهْ

An old woman whose youth has long passed

Yet in private, retains the face of a singer

زَنَتْ بالرِّجالِ على سِنِّها

فَيا حبَّذَا هِي مِن زانِيهْ

She flirts with men despite her age

If only she were less of a sinner

تُريك العُقُول على ضَعْفِهَا

تُدارُ كما دارتِ السّانِيهْ

She fools minds with her frailty

Spinning like a top gone asunder

فقد عنِيتْ بهَواها الحُلُو

مُ فهْي براحتِهَا عانِيهْ

Lost in selfish passions so sweet

At peace though she causes wonder

تَقَاصَرُ عن طُولِهَا قُونْكَةٌ

وتَبْعُدُ عن غُنْجِهَا دانِيهْ

Shorter than her height, a wand

Farther than her voice, one who laments

تَردَّيْتُ مِن حُزْنِ عيْشِي بها

غَراماً فَيا طُول أَحْزَانِيهْ

I’m consumed by sorrow when with her

Yearning, oh how long my laments