مُذْ زادَ بيَ الوجدُ يا من راحَ يعذلني
أضحى بلا آخرٍ فالعذل ما نجعا
Ever since longing grew within me, O you who went on blaming me,
That longing became endless—for reproach availed nothing.
أنفقتُ ريعان عمري في الغرام على
وردِ الخدودِ فما راءٍ كمن سمعا
I spent the first bloom of my life in passion for
the roses of cheeks—for one who sees is not like one who has heard.
Sol 5.6