وَغادَةٍ لَوْ رَأَتْها الَّشْمُس ما طَلَعَتْ

وَالرّيمُ أَغْضَى وَخُوطُ البانِ لَمْ يَمِسِ

If the sun had seen her, it wouldn't have risen,

And the sand turned pale, and necklace threads untouched.

عانَقْتُها بِرِداءِ اللَّيْلِ مشْتَمِلاً

حَتّى انْتَبَهْتُ بِبَرْدِ الحَلْي في الغَلَسِ

I embraced her in the night's gown, huddled together,

Until I awoke to the chill of her cheekbones in the darkness.

فَبِتُّ أَحْمِيهِ خَوْفاً أَنْ يُنَبِّهَها

وَأَتَّقِي أَنْ أُذيبَ العِقْدَ بِالنَّفَسِ

So I protect her, fearing to wake her,

And avoid melting the pearls with my breath.