نَرجِسَةٌ لا تَزالُ مُحَدِّقَةً

لَم تَكتَحِل قَطُّ لَذَّةَ الغُمضِ

A narcissus still staring

She has never tasted the pleasure of closing her eyes

أَمالَها القَطرُ فَهيَ باهِتَةٌ

تَنظُرُ فِعلَ السَماءِ بِالأَرضِ

The rain has leaned her over so she is pale

Watching the deed of the sky with the earth