وَأَخجلها البِرازُ فَألبَستها

يَدُ الساقي من الحَبَبِ القناعا

Shame made her blush, so the cupbearer dressed her

In a veil of bubbles. He stirred her essence into the cup

وَعَصفَر مَزجُها في الكأسِ حَتّى

كَأَنَّ الماءَ أَفزَعَها وَراعا

Until she seemed frightened by the water, shy.

Once she was a conqueror - how can she now

وَكانَت قَبلُ فاتِكَةً فأنّى

وَقَد قُتِلَت تُقتّلُنا خِداعا

Be slain, yet still slay us with her glances?