وَبي الخالُ مُسودّاً عَلى ذَقن الّتي
رَمَت بِفُؤادِ الصبِّ سَهماً مِنَ الحدقْ
And I am smitten by the mole, black upon the chin of her
who shot the lover’s heart with an arrow from her eyes.
وَما هُوَ إِلّا كَوكب خَرَّ ساقطاً
عَلى طرفِ الشّمسِ المُنيرة فَاِحتَرق
It is nothing but a star that came plummeting down
upon the rim of the radiant sun and burned away.
وَما هُوَ إِلّا المسك قَد طابَ نفحهُ
بِآخر قرص الشّمس قَد ذُرَّ فَاِلتَصق
And it is nothing but musk, its fragrance grown sweet;
at the edge of the sun’s disk it was sprinkled, and there it clung.
Sol 5.6