برقت مَحاسِنُ وَجهِها وَسَرى بِهِ
ماءَ المَحاسِنِ فَاِختَفَت بِخبائِها
The charms of her face flashed, and over it flowed
the water of beauty; then she hid in her tent.
فَأَتيتها وَالعينُ قَد ظَمِئَت إِلى
مَرأَى مُحيّاها وَنورِ بَهائِها
So I came to her, my eye already thirsting for
the sight of her face and the light of her splendor.
وَطَلبت سُقيا العَينِ قالَت فَاِتَّئِدْ
ما كُلّ بارِقَةٍ تَجودُ بِمائِها
And I asked to quench my eye; she said, “Be patient—
not every lightning flash gives freely of its water.”
Sol 6.1