يا مَن لَهُ في عَينِهِ عَقرَبُ

فَكُلُّ مَن مَرَّ بِها تَضرِبُ

O you whose eye contains a scorpion

O you who harbors a scorpion within his eye,

So it strikes all who pass by

That strikes everyone who passes near,

وَمَن لَهُ شَمسٌ عَلى خَدِّهِ

طالِعَةٌ بِالسَعدِ ما تَغرُبُ

And he who has a sun upon his cheek

And who bears a sun upon his cheek,

Ever rising, never setting

Rising with good fortune, never to set,

يا بَكرُ مَن سَمَّيتُهُ سَيِّدي

مَلُحتَ لي جِسماً فَما تَعذُبُ

O Bakr, whom I call my master

O Bakr, whom I have called my master,

You have become a torment to me

You are beautiful of body to me, yet you are not sweet,

وَصارَ إِعراضاً بِشاشاتُكُم

وَماتَ ذاكَ السَهلُ وَالمَرحَبُ

Your bright face has turned away

Your cheerfulness has turned into avoidance,

And the easy, welcoming place is dead

And dead are the words of ease and welcome.