تاهَ بخالِ خَدِّهِ

كما يَتِيهُ الثَّمِلُ

Lost in the cheek's beauty

As a drunk wanders astray

وظنَّ أَنَّ حَسْنَه

وقد مضى مُقْتَبَلُ

He thought his beauty would last

But it has passed away

وقال خَدِّي رَوْضّةٌ

تَرْتَعُ فيها المُقَلُ

He said my cheek is a meadow

Where gazelles wander and graze

فقلتُ ما أَقْبَحَ ما

جئتَ به يا رَجُلُ

I said how ugly are your words

O man, in amaze

لو كان وَرْدًا لم يَكُنْ

يَسْكُنُ فيه جُعَلُ

If it were a rose, no bugs

Would dwell in its bloom