لَهْفِي عَلَى شَادِنٍ فِي حُسْنِ طَلْعَتِهِ

وَشَعْرُهُ صَارَ إِصْبَاحِي وَإِمْسَائِي

My longing for Shadin in his beauty's prime

His hair has lit my morn and eve sublime

قَدْ بَرَّدَ القَلْبَ فِي تَمُّوزَ مَرْشِفُهُ

وَظَلَّ يَحْرِقُ فِي كَانُونَ أَحْشَائِي

His sip in July my heart made cold as rime

Yet burned within through winter's cruel clime