لم أنس غانيةً كأن قوامها

غصن عليه من الحلَى ورشانُ

I have not forgotten a singer whose figure

Is like a branch laden with pearls and chrysolites.

ووليدها بين النهود كحارسٍ

في جنةٍ ثمراتُها رمان

Her child between her breasts is like a guardian

In a garden whose fruits are pomegranates.

قالت وقد قرأت كتاب صبابتي

من مدمعي فكأنه عنوان

She said, having read the book of my youth

With my tears, as if it were the title page:

سأعود إن نام الغلام وأدبرت

ووعودُ كل غريرةٍ بهتان

“I will return when the boy falls asleep

Though the promises of coquettes are lies.”