يَا رَبِّ قَدْ عُلّقْتُهُ

لَدْنِ المَعاطِف أَهْيَفَا

O Lord, I hung it

By the cloaks, swaying gently,

وَالنَّرْجِسُ الغَضُّ الَّذي

في نَاظِرَيْهِ تَأَلَّفَا

And the tender narcissus

That grew entwined in its eyes,

هُوَ مُضعَفٌ لكنْ بِكَسْ

رِ العَيْنِ أَصْبَحَ مُضْعِفَا

It is fragile but with a touch

Of sadness in its eyes, grows more fragile,

إِنْ كَانَ أَذْنَبَ بالصُّدو

دِ فإِنّ صَبْرِيَ قَدْ عَفَا

If it sinned in aloofness

Then my patience has forgiven,

كَمْ رُمْتُ رِقَّة خَصْرِهِ

فأبانَ لي مِنْهَا جَفَا

How often I admired the softness of its waist,

Only to meet its disdain,

وَطَلبْتُ مِنْ ذَاكَ العِذا

رِ تَعَطُّفاً فَتوقَّفا

And hoped for tenderness

From that haughty one, but it hesitated.