يا وَردَةً جادَت بِها يَدُ مُتحِفي

فَهَمى لَها دَمعي وَهاجَ تَأَسُّفي

O rose brought by the hand of a connoisseur

My tears flowed for it and my sorrow was provoked

حَمراءُ عاطِرَةُ النَسيمِ كَأَنَّها

مِن خَدِّ مُقتَبِلِ الشَبيبَةِ مُترَفِ

Fragrant red, as if it were

From the cheek of a young man kissing his beloved

عَرَضَت تُذَكِّرُني دَماً مِن صاحِبٍ

شَرِبَت بِهِ الدُنيا سُلافَةَ قَرقَفِ

It reminded me of the blood of a companion

With which the world drank a sip of death

فَلَثَمتُها شَغَفاً وَقُلتُ لِعَبرَتي

هِيَ ما تَمُجُّ الأَرضُ مِن دَمِ يُوسُفِ

I kissed it passionately and said to my tears

This is not what the earth absorbs from Joseph's blood