وَفي قَدِّهِ كَالرّمحِ يَطعَنُ مُهجَتي
وَإِنّي بِهِ المَقتولُ مِن غَيرِ ما شَكِّ
And with his spear-like stature he pierces my heart,
And I am indeed slain by him, without a doubt.
وَفي خَدِّهِ مِن خالِهِ وَورودِهِ
إِلى الحسنِ دينارٌ وَقيراط مِن مِسكِ
And on his cheek, from his mole and his roses,
Beauty has a dinar and a carat of musk.
Sol 6.1