وَهَيفاءَ إِن قامَت فَعاذَت بِخَصرِها
مِنَ الرِّدفِ قالَ المِرطُ لَيسَ يُعيذُ
And a slender-waisted beauty—when she rose and sought refuge in her waist
from her haunches—her mantle said, “It offers no refuge.”
رَمَتْ صاحِبي يَومَ النَّقا بِكُلَيمَةٍ
فَمادَ كَما هَزَّ الخَليعُ نَبيذُ
At al-Naqā she struck my companion with one little word;
he reeled as wine sets a rake swaying.
وَحدَّثَني أَترابُها أَنَّ ريقَها
عَلى ما حَكى عودُ الأراكِ لَذيذُ
Her peers told me that the moisture of her mouth
—as the arak twig testifies—is delicious.
فأَودَعَ قَلبي وَصفُهُنَّ عَلاقَةً
فَها أَنا مِن ذاكَ الحَديثِ وَقيذُ
Their description thus lodged an attachment in my heart;
and here I am, laid low by that account.
Sol 5.6