عَلى الوَردِ منِّي أَن تَوَلَّى تَحِيَّةٌ

وَإِن ما مَضى إِقبالُهُ وَرحيلُهُ

Farewell greetings to the rose as it turns away

Though the days of its arrival and departure have passed

لَقَد كُنتُ أُسقَى فَوقَهُ الراحَ فَوقنا

مِن اللَّهو ظلٌّ لا يَزولُ ظَليلُهُ

I would water it over us, the gentle breeze over us both

A shade that does not fade, its coolness eternal

وَأَوتارُ مَخضُوبِ البَنانِ كَأَنَّها

حَمامٌ وَصَبري حينَ طَلَّ هَديلُهُ

And the strings of the lute stained deep red as though

A dove whose cooing grows distant once called