1. I pay no heed to the words of reproachers,

    When they reproach me for loving Haytham.

  2. He holds all beauty in his thrall;

    None who beholds him leaves save enslaved by love.

  3. He is a Muslim, yet he has not refrained

    In love from slaying the Muslim lover.

  4. So, because of his stature and his glance, I yearn for the

    Straightened spear, thrusting with its broad, sharp head.

  5. And because his eye slays whoever beholds him, I find

    That I kiss every keen-edged sword.

  6. And the impact of arrows and their drawing out stir my longing,

    When he sends forth his glances like arrows.

  7. And he is the one who now has weapons with which

    He assails tightly woven, firmly wrought chain mail.

Sol 6.1