يا حُسنَ أَحمَدَ غادِياً أَمسِ

بِمُدامَةٍ صَفراءَ كَالوَرسِ

O beauty Ahmad walking yesterday

In a yellow robe like saffron

وَالصُبحُ حَيٌّ في مَشارِقِهِ

وَاللَيلُ يَلفِظُ آخِرَ النَفَسِ

And the morning alive in its east

And the night breathing its last breath

فَكَأَنَّ كَفَّيهِ تُقَسِّمُ في

أَقداحِنا قِطَعاً مِنَ الشَمسِ

So it seemed his hands were dividing

In our cups pieces of the sun