لا غُصنَ قَد يَبدو لِقَدِّكَ مُشبِهاً

وَعَلى قَوامِكَ شَمسُ حُسنِكَ تُشرقُ

No branch may seem to your stature resembling,

And over your perfect form your beauty's sun is rising.

لينُ الحَمائِمِ بِالغُصونِ تَعَلَّقت

فَبِقدِّك الأَرواح كَم تَتَعلَّقُ

The doves were attached to the branches,

So to your stature how many souls are attaching.