وَمُتَيَّمٍ تَرَكَ الفِراقُ جُفونَهُ

أَسرى لِسُلطانَ الدُموعِ الوارِدِ

And a love-struck man—separation left his eyelids

In thrall to the dominion of the coursing tears.

فَكَأَنَّما وَجناتِهِ وَدموعِهِ

ذَهَبا نِ يَقطُرُ ذائِبٌ في جامِدِ

So that his cheeks and his tears seem

Two forms of gold: molten, dripping upon solid.

وَسابِقٍ مِن أَحسَنِ الجِيادِ

جِلالُهُ في غايَةِ السَوادِ

And a racer among the finest steeds,

Whose splendor lies in blackness at its deepest.

رَكِبتُ مِنهُ سَلِسَ القِيادِ

أَسرَعَ مِن حُبٍّ إِلى فُؤادِ

I mounted one of them, easy on the rein,

Swifter than love’s passage into a heart.

أَرجُلُهُ تَفطِنُ لِلمُرادِ

كَأَنَّها مَباضِعُ الفَصّادِ

His legs discern what is desired,

As though they were the bloodletter’s lancets.