ريعَت مِنَ البَرقِ وَفي كَفِّها

بَرقٌ مِنَ القَهوَةِ لَمّاعُ

She sipped lightning from the sky and in her palm

Lightning from the coffee, frothing

يا لَيتَ شِعري وَهيَ شَمسُ الضُحى

كَيفَ مِنَ الأَنوار تَرتاعُ

If only my poetry knew, as the morning sun knows

How she trembles at the lights