وَبي لَحظُهُ الوَسنان أَبرَعُ ساحِر

تَعَلَّمَ عِلمَ السّحرِ وَاِعتادَه طَبعا

His glance, so alluring, is a master sorcerer

Learned in magic, a natural born enchanter

بِجَبهَتِه في قُربِ عَقرَبِ صُدغِهِ

وَإِنّ لَها عَن قَوسِ حاجِبِهِ رَفعا

With his brow, near the temple of his cheek

And the arch of his brow lifted high

غَدا يَرصدُ الشّمسَ المُنيرَة بابها

وَيَحرسُ مِن رَوضِ الخدودِ لَهُ زَرعا

Each morn he watches the brilliant sun enter

And guards the garden of his cheek

فَمِن نَرجِسٍ في الطَرف صَيّر صارماً

وَصَيَّر مِن آسِ العذارِ لَهُ دِرعا

So from the narcissus of his eyes he fashions a sword

And from myrtle branches, armor he crafted