يا بِنتَ مَن لَم يَكُ يَهوى بِنتا

ما كُنتِ إِلّا خَمسَةً أَو سِتّا

O daughter of one who never loved a girl

You were but five or six years old

حَتّى حَلَلتِ في الحَشى وَحَتّى

فَتَّتِّ قَلبي مِن جَوىً فَاِنفَتّا

Until you crept into my heart and there

My heart was cleft by passion, rent in two

لَأَنتِ خَيرٌ مِن غُلامٍ بَتّا

يُصبِحُ سَكرانَ وَيُمسي بَهتا

For you are better than an idle lad

Who wakes up drunk and goes to sleep confused