لِلوَردِ أَرى شَمائِلَ الفُسّاقِ

إِذ شاكَلَهُ الخمرُ وَخَدُّ الساقي

The rose, I see the traits of sinners in it

When wine has shaped it, and the cupbearer's cheek

إِن أُخرِجَ عَن جنانه اِستوجَبهُ

أَو سيقَ إِلى النارِ فباِستِحقاقِ

If it's removed from its gardens, it deserves that

Or if it's led to fire, it's by rightful claim