شَعْرُهُ مأتم وخَدَّاه عُرْسٌ

ثم فُوهُ برؤٌ وعيناه نُكْس

His hair is a funeral and his cheeks a wedding

Then his mouth is a vision and his eyes are downcast

فيه ثلجٌ وفيه في الثلج نارٌ

فيه ليلٌ وفيه في الليلِ شمسُ

In him there is ice and in the ice there is fire

In him there is night and in the night there is a sun

كلُّ أجفانه سيوفٌ وما لي

غير قلبي إذا انتضاهنَّ تُرْس

All his eyelids are swords but I have

Only my heart when he unveils them as a shield

دقَّ في حسنه وجلَّ فأضحى

هُوَ طوراً يخفى وطوراً يُحَسُّ

He knocked on beauty and excelled, so he became

A mountain, sometimes hidden and sometimes sensed