مِن فَتاةٍ صُبَّ الجَمالُ عَلَيها

في حَديثٍ كَلَذَّةِ النَشوانِ

From a girl on whom beauty was poured

In conversation sweet as sugar cane

ثُمَّ فارَقتُ ذاكَ غَيرَ ذَميمٍ

كُلُّ عَيشِ الدُنيا وَإِن طالَ فانِ

Then I left her, with no ill will

All life in this world, however long, must wane