فَدَيْتُ مَن ألفاظُه جَذْوةٌ

تُذْكي ومَن مَلْثَمُه باردُ

I ransom the one whose words are embers

That kindle, while his lips are cool

لَمَّا تشكِّيتُ إليه الهوى

والشوقُ نامٍ والجوى زائد

When I complained to him of passion

While yearning slumbers and sickness increases

أرسل في تُفَّاحةٍ خَدّه

إليّ كَيْلاَ يفطن الحاسِدُ

He sent in an apple his cheek

To me, so the envious one would not perceive

فلونُه في لونها ظاهِرٌ

ورِيقُه في طعمها جامِدُ

Its color in its color is evident

And its saliva in its taste condensed