أُنظرْ إلى أثَرِ المدادِ بخدِّهِ

كبنفسج الروضِ المشوبِ بورده

I look upon the trace of ink on his cheek

Like the violet of the garden tinged with rose

ما أخطأتْ نوناته من صُدْغِهِ

شيئاً ولا ألِفاتُهُ من قده

His dimples did not miss a single dot

Nor did his height miss a single curve

ألقتْ أناملُهُ على أقلامه

شَبَهاً أراك فرندها كفرنده

His fingers cast upon his pens

You'd think his palms kneaded dough

وكأنما أنفاسُهُ من شعره

وكأنما قِرْطاسُهُ من خده

And as though his breath was from his hair

And as though his parchment was from his cheek

ما صدَّ عني حين صدَّ تعمداً

لولا المعلمُ ما رُمِيتُ بصَدِّه

He would not have turned away from me deliberately

If not for the teacher, I'd not be struck by his rejection