ما أَحسِبُ ذاكَ جُؤذُرَ القنَّاصِ

في لَفتَتِهِ ودُرَّةَ الغَوَّاصِ

I do not think that hunter of the valley,

Wrapped in his cloak and pearl diver,

يَستَحسِنُ لي هَجراً ولا يُضمِرهُ

لو شاهَدَ ما عِندي مِنَ الإِخلاصِ

Approves of my estrangement, though he feigns it,

Did he but see my heart's unfeigned sadness.