قَد سَقَتني خَمراً وَريقاً كَخَمرِ

بِنتُ عُشرٍ في كَفَّها بِنتُ عَشرِ

She offered me a drink, a draft like wine

A girl of nineteen, in her hand a draft of wine

ذَرَّ في وَجهِها المَلاحَةَ ذَرّاً

خالِقٌ هَزَّ غُصنَها تَحتَ بَدرِ

He sprinkled on her face a little salt

A Creator shook its branch beneath the full moon

مَرحَباً بِاِختِلاجِ جَفنِ عُيونٍ

بَشَّرَت عَينُها بِرُؤيَةِ شُرِّ

Welcome the fluttering of the eyelids

Her eye gave glad tidings at the sight of poetry

لَكَ عِندِيَ عَتقٌ مِنَ الدَمعِ إِن صَح

حَ الَّذي قُلتِهِ وَلَو بَعدَ شَهرِ

For you I have a ransom of tears, if true

Be what you said, even after a month