جَميلٌ تَودُّ الشّمسُ مثلَ جَمالِهِ

كَما ودَّ غُصنُ الرَّوضِ ليناً بعِطفِهِ

Beautiful as the sun, his grace

As the branch loves the garden's gentle bend

فَما فيهِ شَيءٌ مائلٌ غَيرُ عِطفِه

وَما فيه شيءٌ خارجٌ غيرُ رِدْفِهِ

Nothing in him leans but his grace

Nothing in him reaches beyond his mantle