وَذي حَنينٍ يَكادُ شَجواً

يَختَلِسُ الأَنفُسَ اِختِلاسا

With yearning that almost turns to lament

Stealing souls stealthily

إِذا غَدا لِلرِّياضِ جاراً

قالَ لَها المَحلُ لا مِساسا

When it neighbors the garden

The venue said "Do not touch"

تَبَسَّمَ الزَهرُ حينَ يَبكي

بِأَدمُعٍ ما رَأَينَ باسا

The flowers smiled when it cried

With tears never seen before

مِن كُلِّ جَفنٍ يَسِلُّ سَيفاً

صارَ لَها غِمدُهُ رِئاسا

From every eyelid that draws a sword

Its scabbard became a chief