اُنظُرْ إِلى الزّنبَقِ القزّيِّ حينَ بَدا

وَشُمَّ مِن نَفحَهِ الشّافي من الوصَبِ

Behold the purple iris when it appeared

And smell its healing scent, free from turmoil

فَقَد غَزا ريحُه في ريحِ ذي نتَنٍ

فَفَرَّ مُنهَزِماً في خَوفِ مضطربِ

For its fragrance has invaded the stench of decay

So it fled defeated in trembling distress

لَو لَم يَكُن غازِياً ما كان تَوَّجَهُ

والي الزّهورِ بِريشاتٍ مِنَ الذَّهبِ

Had it not been an invader, it would not have turned

To the lord of flowers in feathers of gold