يا طَائِراً ناحَ إذ طاحَ الحمامُ بهِ

هَيَّجْتَ لِلصبِّ يَوْمَ الحُزْنِ أَحْزانا

O bird, when the doves fell upon him

You stirred up sorrows for the lover on the day of sadness

فَباتَ بالبانِ مَشْغُوفاً ولَيْسَ بهِ

شَوْقٌ إليه ولكنْ مَنْ حَكَى البانا

So he spent the night obsessed with distance, though

He feels no longing for it, but who can explain obsession?

يا مُخْجِلَ الغُصْنِ إذ يَهْتَزُّ ناعِمُهُ

لِيناً وَيُوسِعُ مَنْ نَهْواهُ إليانا

O you who embarrass the soft, swaying branch

With your gentle leaning, granting intimacy to those you allow close

لوْلاكَ ما هاجَتِ الوَرْقاء لي فَنناً

ولا أَرِقْتُ لِظَبْيٍ باتَ وَسْنَانا

Were it not for you, the blossoms would not have stirred in me passions

Nor would I have lost sleep for a gazelle spending the night in the valley

وَرُبَّ لَيْلٍ صَحِبْنا في دُجُنَّتِه

مِنَ الكواعبِ أقماراً وأغصانا

And many a night we kept company in its darkness

Among the maidens, moons and branches

بِحيْثُ نَلْثُم تُفَّاحَ الخُدودِ على

بانِ القُدودِ وَنجْني مِنْهُ رُمَّانا

Where we would kiss the apples of cheeks upon

The cups of the slim, and pluck pomegranates from them

بِكُلِّ صَافٍ لَدَى صَافٍ يُريكَ على

لُجَينهِ مِنْ سَقيطِ النَّوْرِ عَقْيانَا

With every pure one next to a pure one, you are shown upon

Their smooth cheeks from the falling starlights, wine glasses