قُلتُ لِلغُصينِ قامَةً وَاِعتِدالا

مِلْ لِصَبٍّ في الحبِّ صارَ قتيلَكْ

I said to the branch, standing tall and upright,

"Why, for a youth in love, have you become slain?

وهَواه أراد ميلَك قَسْراً

وَهوَ أَضحى يريده أَن يُميلَك

His passion wanted your bend by force,

And now he wishes you would bend to him."

قالَ لي أَنتَ وَالهَوى فيك ريحٌ

قلت شَأني يا غُصنُ أَن أَستَميلك

It said to me, "You and the love in you are a gust of wind.

My way, O branch, is to bend to you."