رَمَتني غَداةَ الخَيفِ لَيلى بِنَظرَةٍ

عَلى خَفَرٍ وَالعيسُ صُعْرٌ خُدودُها

One morning as dawn was breaking, Layla glanced at me

Over the edge of her veil, while the Pleiades faded;

فَما لاذَ مَن نالتهُ إِلّا بِمَدمَعٍ

يُحاكي بِجَفنَيهِ الدُّموعَ عُقودُها

None escape when she turns her gaze on them, save with plenteous tears

That mirror, with their flowing, the necklaces round her throat.

وَأَذرت بِجَمعٍ فالمُحَصِّبِ عَبرَةً

فَظَلَّتْ بِأَطرافِ البَنانِ تَذودُها

She left in haste, and the look of reproach that she gave me

Was enough – she moved slowly away, hemmed in by the crowds.

مِنَ البيضِ لَم تَعرِف سِوى البُخلِ شيمَةً

وَلَم يُرجَ إِلّا بِالأَحاديثِ جودُها

With her skin so fair she knows nothing of liberality’s ways;

Her talk is only of trivialities, nothing profound.

شَكَت سَقَماً أَلحاظُها وَهي صِحَّةٌ

فَلَستُ أَرى إِلّا القُلوبَ تَعودُها

She complained of sickness, but she is healthy enough;

I see only hearts that sigh over whatever she does.