وَجاهِلٍ لَم يَذُقِ الحُبّا

لَحى مُحِبّاً دَنِفاً صَبّا

An ignorant man who has never tasted love

Mocks a passionate, devoted lover

لَو ذاقَ لَوعاتِ الهَوى لَم يَكُن

هَوى ظَلومٍ عِندَهُ ذَنبا

If he felt the torments of passion he wouldn't

Consider the love of the oppressed a sin

رَمَت ظَلومٌ بِسِهامٍ لَها

قَلبي فَقَد أَقصَدَتِ القَلبا

The oppressed aimed arrows at my heart

And surely hit their mark

لَو عُبِدَ المَخلوقُ مِن

حُسنِهِ لَأَصبَحَت مالِكَتي رَبّا

If the created were worshipped for their beauty

My mistress would be worshipped like an idol