تَوَهَّمَهُ قَلبي فَأَصنَحَ خَدُّهُ

وَفيهِ مَكانَ الوَهمِ مِن نَظَري أُثرُ

My heart imagined him, so his cheek took shape,

My heart envisioned him, and his cheek bore the sign—a trace left by my gaze within the realm of thought.

And in it from my gaze was a trace of fancy.

He passed through my mind as a fleeting memory, and I wounded him; never have I seen a body that a thought could scar.

وَمَرَّ بِفِكري خاطِراً فَجَرَحتُهُ

وَلَم أَرَ جِسماً قَطُّ يَجرَحُهُ الفِكرُ

A thought passed through my mind, so I wounded him,

My heart shook hands with him, bringing pain to his palm; from the grasp of my heart, his fingertips are torn.

Never did I see a body that thought could wound.

وَصافَحَهُ قَلبي فَآلَمَ كَفَّهُ

فَمِن غَمزِ قَلبي في أَنامِلِهِ عَقرُ

My heart shook his hand, so his palm was hurt,

For my heart's pinch left in his fingers a sore.