مَقدودة غَضَّة الشَباب

أَرَق مِن رِقَّةِ الشَرابِ

A shapely maiden, fresh in youth,

more delicate than wine’s own delicacy.

خافَت عَلى الوَردِ وَجَنَتاها

فَغَطَّت الوَردَ بِالنِقابِ

Her cheeks feared for their rose,

so she covered the rose with a veil.

وَعاتَبتني وَأيُّ شَيءٍ

في الحُبِّ أَحلى مِن العِتابِ

She reproached me—but where is anything

in love sweeter than reproach?