وَمُهَفهَفٍ ضرب الجَمال رَواقَهُ

من فَوقِهِ فأَظَلَّهُ بِرواقِهِ

And a slender one—Beauty pitched its pavilion

above him, shading him with its canopy.

يَتَثَنَّ في خُضرِ البُرودِ كَأَنَّهُ

غُصنٌ ثَنَتهُ الريحُ في أَوراقِهِ

He sways in robes of green, as though he were

a bough the wind had bent among its leaves.

وَكأَنَّما زرَّت جيوب قَميصه

فَوقَ الصَباحِ فَنَمَّ من أَطواقِهِ

It was as though his shirt’s openings were buttoned

over the dawn—yet dawn betrayed itself through his collars.