وَأَهْيَفَ فَاقَ الوَرْدَ حُسْناً بِوَجْنَةٍ

أُنَزِّهُ طَرْفي في رِياضِ جِنَابِهَا

He excelled the roses in beauty with his cheek

I delight my eyes in the gardens of his face

كَأَنَّ بِهَا مِنْ حَوْلِ خَالَيْهِ جَمْرَةٌ

تُشَبُّ لِمَقْرُوريْنِ يَصْطَلِيانِهَا

As if around his moles there is a ember

That yearns for two imprisoned ones warming by it