قدْ لامَنيْ في الحُبِّ مَنْ في دَهْرهِ

ما زارَ ثَغْرًا وانتَشى مِنْ خَمْرهِ

The one who in his life has never felt

The joy of love, that wonderful exhilaration,

عُذِرَ العَذولُ لِجهلهِ، لكنَّ منْ

جَهِلَ الجَمالَ كأنّما في عُذْرهِ

May merit our forgiveness for such ignorance,

But he who lacks all sense of beauty's face

ساوى البصيرةَ بالعَمى، كيدًا كما

لو كان حيًّا واستَوى في قَبْرهِ

Could be mistaken for a corpse laid in its place.

To see no loveliness where there is such

بئْسَ الحَياة بلا حَبيبٍ أوْ هَوىً

بئْسَ الهوَى إنْ عاذَنا منْ سِحْرهِ

Is equal to one buried while still alive.

Sad is the life that knows no loving friend,