أَيا مَن ريقُهُ خَمري

وَمَن وَجنَتُهُ زَهري

O you whose saliva is wine

And whose cheeks are rosy

إِلى كَم يَرِدُ العَتبُ

فَلا يَروى مِنَ العُذرِ

To what extent does reproach flow

That cannot be quenched by excuses

أَظُنُّ الوُدَّ قَد تَمَّت

عَلَيهِ حيلَةُ الغَدرِ

I think love has been completed

By the trickery of betrayal

وَإِلّا لِم غَدا الوَصلُ

أَسيراً في يَدِ الهَجرِ

Otherwise why has intimacy

Become captive at separation's hands