يا قائِلاً إِذ رَأى مَرجي وَحمرتَهُ

ما كانَ أَحوَجَ هَذا المَرجَ لِلكُحُلِ

O you who said when he saw Marji and its redness

This pasture was not more in need of kohl

هُوَ اِحمِرارُ دِماءِ الرُوم سَيَّلَها

بِالبيضِ مَن مَرَّ مِن آبائي الأَوَلِ

It is the redness of the blood of Romans I spilled

With the white swords of my early forefathers

أَحبَبتُهُ أَن حَكى مَن قَد فُتِنَتُ بِهِ

في حُمرَةِ الخَدِّ أَو إِخلافِهِ أَمَلي

I loved that he told of her whom I was infatuated with

In the redness of a cheek or the failing of a hope