مَرَرْتُ بِوَادِي النَّمْلِ مِنْ فَوْقِ خَدِّهِ

وَقَدْ خَافَ سُلْطَانَ الْهَوَى وَتَكَلَّمَا

I passed by the valley of ants above its cheek

And he had feared the authority of passion, so they conversed

وَكَانَ سُلَيْمَانُ الْجَمالِ بِثَغْرِهِ

يُصِيخُ لِمَا جَاءَتْ بِهِ فَتَبَسَّمَا

Solomon of beauty was, with his mouth

Crying out at what she had brought, so they both smiled