تَفَرَّدَ قَلبي فَما يَشتَبِك

بِحُبِّ الظِباءِ وَبُغضِ السَمَك

My heart stands singular, it does not entwine,

In love for the gazelles, nor in fish-hate malign.

وَلَم أَرَ لي فيهِما مُسعِداً

يُساعِدُني غَيرُ عَبدِ المَلِك

I found in neither a comfort to seek,

To lend me his aid, save Abd al-Malik.

فَتىً يَنهَشُ الكِتفَ مِن ظَهرِها

وَلا يَتَعَرَّقُ بَطنَ الوَرِك

A youth who tears the shoulder from the back,

Yet strips not the flesh from the hip-bone's track.

وَلا يَتَأَنّى لِشُعبِ الصُدوعِ

وَلَكِن بَصيرٌ بِصَدعِ الفَلَك

He does not dally where branching rifts stray,

But spots the celestial cleft, clear as day.

خَروقٌ جَهولٌ بِحَلِّ الإِزارِ

رَقيقٌ بَصيرٌ بِحَلِّ التِكَك

Clumsy and dull with the waist-wrapper's band,

But skilled and gentle with the drawstring in hand.