وَزَنْجٍ شَبَّبُوا لَمَّا شَجَاهُمْ

مُغَنٍّ خِلْتُه زرقا اليمامَهْ

When they were smitten with longing in youth,

They made a minstrel I reproached with the dove's color.

كَأنَّهُمُ وَقَدْ سكِرُوا وَطَارُوا

شحَارِيرٌ تَغَنَّتْهُمْ حَمَامَهْ

It was as though intoxicated and carried away they were,

Warblers singing to them in the dove-cot.