وَأَسوَدٍ عَنَّ لَنا سابِحٍ
في لُجَّةٍ تَطفَحُ بَيضاءِ
A swimmer told of inky nights for us
In a surge of white he’s awash
وَإِنَّما جالَ بِها ناظِرٌ
في مُقلَةٍ تَنظُرُ زَرقاءِ
Though it was but his gaze that roamed them
From eyes of blue that looked on
