جاريةٌ شعرُها ملاحِفُها

تعجزُ عن حمله وصائفُها

Her hair is so long it trails behind her

Too heavy for the braids to bear

تنالُ أطرافُهُ إذا سقطت

في المشي ما لم تنلْ مطارفُها

Its tips touch the ground when she walks

Unless she holds their ends with care

مفترقُ الشَّمْل هاهنا وهنا

قد فَرَّقت شملَه روادفها

Split by the combs that stroke her hair

The dawn is fair to see at night

للَّيل فجرٌ يَسُرُّ منظرُهُ

وليلُها فجرُهُ سوالفها

But dawn to her is nightfall's glare