وَمضعّف المَنثورِ إِن يكُ أَحمرا

يَبدو بِوَجهٍ في العُيونِ جَميلِ

And the scattered red, if it has a face

In eyes appears fair to behold

كَم شِمت منهُ زَهرةً وَكَأنَّها

لَعسُ الشّفاهِ تضم لِلتّقبيلِ

How often I've smelled its flower, as though

Lips yearned to kiss and to fold