وَمُرَوِّعٍ لي بِالسَلامِ كَأَنَّما

تَسليمُهُ فيما يَمُضُّ وَداعُ

His greeting is frighteningly peaceful to me

As if his farewell passes in goodbye

تَغفى بِمَنظَرِهِ العُيونُ إِذا بَدا

وَتَقىءُ عِندَ غِنائِهِ الأَسماعُ

Eyes close at the sight of him should he appear

And ears vomit at the sound of his singing

أَبذاكَ نَستَشفي وَمِن نَغَماتِه

تَتَوَلَّدُ الآلامُ وَالأَوجاعُ

Is this how we heal ourselves, when from his melodies

Pains and aches are born?

أَم كَيفَ يُطرِبُنا غِناءُ مُشَوَّةٍ

أَبَداً نُهالُ بِوَجهِهِ وَنُراعُ

How can the singing of a tempting man

Who we forever flee his face, delight us?

نَزوي الوُجوهَ تَفادِياً مِن صَوتِهِ

حَتّى كَأَنَّ سَماعَهُ إِسماعُ

We turn our faces to avoid his voice

As if hearing him is deafness

وَكَأَنَّ ضَربَ بَنانِهِ ضَربُ الطُلى

وَكَأَنَّما إيقاعُهُ إيقاعُ

As if the striking of his fingers is the striking of folly

And his rhythm is but noise

أَشهى إِلَينا مِن غِنائِكَ مَسمَعاً

زَجَلُ الضَراغِمِ بَينَهُنَّ قِراعُ

More pleasing to me than your singing heard

Is the clash of lutes amidst their playing