لقد نَطق العودُ عن سِّره

فغادر كلَّ صحيح كئيبُ

The lute has spoken of its secret

So every upbeat has left depressed

فشبَّهتُ مَيْلَ معاصِيرِه

إذا مِلْن بعد استواءٍ وطِيبْ

I compared the flow of its strings

When they are plucked after evenness and calm

بوجه حبيبٍ بدا ضاحكاً

فعنّ له الحظُ عين الرّقيب

To the face of a beloved that appeared laughing

So luck distracted for him the watcher’s eye

فلما استوى نُطْقُ أوتاره

حكى نقْرُها حسن لفظ الحبيب

When the speaking of its strings was even

Its plucking told the good speaking of the beloved

تجسُّ الأناملُ دَسْتانه

كما جَسّ عِرقَ العليلِ الطبيب

The fingers feel its strings

As the doctor felt the sweat of the sick

فيُسْمِعنا حركاتِ السرور

ويَكْشِف عنّا بنات الكروب

So it makes us hear the motions of bliss

And unveils for us the daughters of anxiety