يا كَثيرَ الأَلوانِ ما أَجفاكا

لِمُحِبٍّ مُعَذَّبٍ في هَواكا

O you of many hues, how uncompassionate you are

To a lover tortured by passion for you

إِن دَعا يَبتَغي سِواكَ مِنَ النا

سِ عَصاهُ لِسانُهُ فَدَعاكا

If he calls seeking someone other than you

His tongue disobeys him and calls you

أَنتَ شُغلُ الفُؤادِ عَن كُلِّ شَيءٍ

لَيسَ يَخلو الفُؤادُ حَتّى يَراكا

You preoccupy the heart from everything

The heart is never free until it sees you

ما بَدا لي شَخصٌ وَلا سَمِعَت أُذُ

نايَ حِسّاً إِلّا حَسِبتُكَ ذاكا

No person has appeared to me, nor has my ear heard anything

Except I thought it was you

وَإِذا ما مَدَدتُ طَرفي إِلى غَي

رِكَ مُثِّلتَ دونَهُ فَأَراكا

And when I look away from you

You appear before me and I see you