وَكيفَ صَبرُ النَفسِ عَن غادَةٍ

تَظلِمُها إِن قُلتَ طاووسَه

How can the soul be patient without Ghada,

Whom you wrong if you call her a peacock,

وَجُرتَ إِن شَبَّهتَها بانَةً

في جَنَّةِ الفِردَوسِ مَغروسَه

And sell short if you compare her to a gazelle

Planted in the garden of Paradise?

وَغَيرُ عَدلٍ إِن عَدَلنا بِها

لُؤلُؤةً في البَحرِ مَنفوسَه

And it is not just if we liken her

To a pearl breathed into the sea,

جَلَّت عَنِ الوَصفِ فَما فِكرَةٌ

تَلحَقُها بِالنَعتِ مَحسوسَه

She transcends description, so no thought

Can reach her with tangible praise.