غازلتني سمراء في حلية المر

د بدبوقة غزت بمظفر

A dark-skinned beauty courted me in the garb of the full moon

Brandishing a flute, she marched triumphantly

ثمَّ قالتْ تحبّني قلت في حل

ية سمرا واليوم حلية أسمر

Then she said, “Do you love me?” I replied, “In the garb

Of a dark-skinned beauty, and today in the garb of one even darker

إن كلِّي يحبُّ كلّك إلا

إن قلبي يحبُّ من فيك أكثر

All of me loves all of you, except

My heart loves the most in you even more

آه يا دهر صبوة وصباً قد

كان أزهى من النجومِ وأزهر

Oh time of youth and prime, that was

More radiant than the stars and most splendid

ليتَ ذهني يخلو فيخدم شعري

كلّ جدّ وكلّ هزل بجوهر

If only my mind were free to serve my poetry

With every serious and every lighthearted gem

ليتَ شعري يصفو كما كانَ قدماً

فعسى العمر ماحِياً ما تكدر

If only my poetry were pure as it was of old

That perchance time would erase the tarnish

إن أكن صرت بالبلادةِ فزعاً

إن لفظي كما يقال مسير

If out of numbness I have become alarmed

My diction, it is said, betrays my condition