رَشَأٌ حَوى مُلَحَ المَلاحَةِ خَدُّهُ

لَما تَطَرَّزَ بِالبَنَفسَجِ وَردُهُ

A youth whose cheek still bears the scar of sorrow,

Yet when arrayed in a robe of violet's hue,

قَد كانَ عَرَّضَني إِلى إِنصافِهِ

وَأَرادَ مَنفَعَتي بِذَلِكَ وُدُّهُ

His beauty seems to me all the brighter for it,

Seeking my heart as recompense for injury received.

حَتّى إِذا أَصبَحتُ أَجنى وَصلَهُ

أَمسى يُحاسِبُني عَلَيهِ صَدُّهُ

At first he came soliciting my favor,

But now that he has gained it, spurns my love anew.