وفاتنٍ بالجمال والدَّعَجِ

قامتْ على عاذِلي به حُجَجِي

With beauty and grace she is blessed

Yet still my reproaches on her I pressed

أظهَر عُذْري عِذارُه وأعا

د الفَلْج لي حُسْنُ ذلك الفَلَج

My excuses her coyness displayed

Returning my grace that before it had frayed

كأنما ثغرُه ونَكْهتُه

نَوْرُ الأقاحِي في الشَّكْل والأَرَج

Her mouth and her dimples in my eyes

Are like stars in the darkest of skies