يا حُسْنَها سَوْسَنَةً

تَصْبُو إلَيْها الحَدَقُ

O, her beauty, a lily

Eyes gaze upon her

فِي حُقَّةٍ مِن فِضَّةٍ

عَلَى نُضَارٍ تُطْبَقُ

In a silver circlet

Over freshness, she closes

وَرُبمَا تَفَتَّحَتْ

عَنِ العَبيرِ يَعْبَقُ

And perhaps she opens

With fragrance, it exudes