أَمائِلَةَ الأَلحاظِ عَنّي إِلى الأَرضِ

أَهَذا الَّذي تُبدينَ وَيحكِ مِن بُغضِ

Turning your glances away from me to the ground

Is this what you show and speaks of your hate?

فَإِن كانَ بُغضاً لَستُ وَاللَّهِ أَهلَهُ

وَوَجهي بِذاكَ اللَّحظِ أَولى مِنَ الأَرضِ

If it's hate, by God, I'm not deserving of it

And my face is more deserving of that look than the ground