نَفْسي الفداء لِمَنْ عاتبتُه ولَهُ
في مُهجتي فتكاتُ البيضِ والأسلِ
My soul be ransom for the one I reproached—for he has
within my heart the deadly strokes of gleaming swords and spears.
فظَلَّ ينثر مِنْ ألفاظِهِ درراً
ارقّ مِن أدمعي فيهِ ومِنْ غَزلي
So perhaps he may scatter pearls from his words,
more delicate than my tears for him, and than my love poetry.
Sol 5.6