ورياضٍ منَ الشقائقِ أضْحَتْ

يتهادَى فيها نسيمُ الرياحِ

And there were gardens of anemones

Where the breeze of the winds wandered

زرتُها والغمامُ يجلدُ منها

زَهَراتٍ تروقُ لون الراحِ

I visited them while the clouds

Plucked flowers whose color pleased the soul

قلتُ ما ذنبُها فقال مجيباً

سَرَقَتْ حُمْرَةَ الخدودِ الملاح

I said "what is their fault?" and the answer came

"They stole the redness of the rosy cheeks"