أَنارَ سِراجُ الحُسنِ في وَجَناتِهِ

فَلا تَحسَبوا الأَلحاظَ غَيرَ فَراشِ

The light of beauty has illuminated its cheeks

So think not the glances to be aught but moths

لِأَوَّلِ واشٍ أُذنُهُ في سِواكُمُ

وَما أُذِنَت فيكُم لِآخِرِ واشِ

For the first comer has his ear at your keyhole

And none has leave to enter but the ear