أُحِبُّ الغُلامَ إِذا كَرَّها

وَأَبصَرتُهُ أَشعَثاً أَمرَها

I love the lad when he launches the charge,

And I see him disheveled and stern,

وَقَد حَذِرَ الناسُ سِكّينَهُ

فَكُلُّهُم يَتَّقي شَرَّها

And the people have grown wary of his knife,

So that all of them guard against its harm,

وَإِنّي رَأَيتُ سَراويلَهُ

لَها تَكَّةٌ أَشتَهي جَرَّها

But I have looked upon his trousers,

With a drawstring that I crave to pull.