أبصَرتُ طَرفَكَ عِندَ مُشتَجَرِ القَنا

فَبَدا لِطَرفي أَنَّهُ فَلَكُ

I saw your glance by the camphor tree

It seemed to me a shining planet bright

أَوَلَيسَ وَجهُكَ فَوقَهُ قَمَراً

يُجلى بنيِّرِ نُورهِ الحَلَكُ

Is not your face above a moon that sheds

Its splendid rays and makes the dark take flight