سُروري عِتابُ الفَتى

إِذا كانَ مِنّي ذَلَل

My joy is the youth's reproach

If it comes from me being gentle

فَلَو لَم أَكُن عِندَهُ

عَزيزاً إِذاً ما فَعَل

For if I were not dear to him

He would not have done thus

أَشهى مِنَ الإِرتِشافِ وَالقُبَلِ

وَمِن بُلوغِ الرَجاءِ وَالأَمَلِ

More delicious than a sip and a kiss

And than attaining hope and wish

وَمِن عُقارٍ يُديرُها رَشَأٌ

مُحتَمَلُ الخَصرِ مُعتَدي الكَفَلِ

And than a potion stirred by a tipsy one

Bearing a slender waist, grabbing the shoulder

وُدٌّ حَلا طَعمُهُ فَذائِقُهُ

لا يَتَشَكّى مَرارَةَ المَلَلِ

Love whose taste is sweet when tasted

Its taster complains not of boredom's bitterness