أشهى من الحلبة والركضِ

إليّ شمُّ النرجسِ الغضّ

More delicious than playing tag

Sweeter than the racetrack and the run,

Is to me smelling the fresh narcissus

To me, is the scent of the tender narcissus,

ومدُّ كفٍّ نحو تفّاحة

مجروحةِ الخدّينِ بالعضِّ

And reaching out a hand toward an apple

And extending a hand towards an apple,

Whose cheeks are wounded by bites

Whose cheeks are wounded by a bite.