أَقولُ لِلغُصنِ إِذ أَبدى تَمايُسه

مَهلاً فَقامَةُ مَنْ أَهواهُ مَيساءُ

I say to the branch when it shows its bending,

"Gently! The stature of the one I love is supple."

فَإِن حَكيت بِمَيس مِنه قامَتهُ

حَكيت شَيئاً وَفاتَت منك أَشياءُ

So if you told of May's gracefulness in her pose,

You'd tell something, yet more would escape from you.