فَلَو أَنَّ كُتّابَ العِراقِ أَكُفُّهُم

حَوَت قَصَبَ الآجامِ أَنقاسُها البَحرُ

If the scribes of Iraq had hands that

held every reed in the marshes, with the sea for their ink,

يَخطونَ ما جاءَت بِهِ الصينُ كُلُّهُ

وَما قَد حَوَت مِن طَيِّ قِرطاسِها مِصرُ

and wrote over all that China had brought forth,

and all that Egypt held within the folds of its paper,

لَما قَدَروا يُحصونَ عُشرَ عُشَيرِ ما

تَضَمَّنَهُ مِن حُبِّكَ القَلبُ وَالصَدرُ

still they could not reckon one tenth of one tenth of all

the heart and breast contain of love for you.