عَاتَبْتُهُ بَدْر تِمٍّ

قَدْ أَطْلضعَتْهُ جُيُوبُهُ

I reproached him, a full moon

Whose robes the dawns had unveiled.

يُقِلُّهُ غُصْنُ بَانٍ

لَدْنُ المَهَزِّ رَطِيبُهُ

A fragrant bough made him sway

Gentle at the bend of inclination.

في لَيْلةٍ غَابَ عَنهَا

وَاشِي الحِمَى وَرَقِيبُهُ

On a night when he was absent from her

The sentry of passion and its watchman,

يَمَسُّ كَفِّي بِجسْمٍ

يَكادُ لَمْسِي يُذِيبُهُ

My palm touches a body

That my touch almost melts.

وَقَالَ رِفْقاً بِخَصْرٍ

في السُّقمِ أَنتَ نَسِيبُهُ

And he said gently, at the waist

"In sickness, you are its kinsman."

فَقُلْتُ قَدْ غَابَ عَنّي

فَأَيْنَ أَيْنَ يُصِيبُهُ

So I said, "He has been absent from me,

Then where, oh where, can he be found?"

فَقَالَ لي هَازِئاً بي

مَن غَابَ غَابَ نَصِيبُهُ

Then he said to me, mocking,

"He who is absent, his lot is lost."