لِوِشَاحِهِ قَلقٌ بِلا أَلَمٍ

وَلِقُرطِهِ خَفقٌ بِلا ذُعرِ

His cloak is restless without pain

And his collar throbs without fear

لَو كُنتُ قَد أنصَفتُ مُقلَتَه

بَرَّأتُ هَارُوتاً مِنَ السِّحرِ

If I had done justice to his gaze

I would have acquitted Harut of sorcery

أَو كُنتُ أَقضِي حَقَّ مرشفِه

أَعرَضتُ لا وَرَعاً عَنِ الخَمرِ

Or if I had given his eyelash its due

I would have turned a blind eye to the wine