بِروحِيَ نَجلُ الخدِّ وردُ خُدودِهِ

وإِنَّ أَخاهُ المِسك فيهَ الجَمالُ

With my spirit the rose is the son of cheeks

And that his brother musk is in it beauty

مُرِ الوردَ يَدعو المسكِ حبّي بِخالِهِ

فَقَد صَحَّ أَنّ المِسكَ لِلوردِ خالُ

Pass by the rose calling musk my love for his moles

For it is true that musk is for the rose a mole