مَرَرْتُ بِالْعُشَّاقِ قَدْ كَبَّرُوا

وَكَانَ بِالْقُرْبِ صَبِيُّ كَرِيمْ

I passed by the lovers, they had grown old

And nearby was a generous boy

فَقُلْتُ مَا بَالُهُمُ قَالَ لِي

أُلْقِيَ لِلْحُبِّ كِتَابٌ كَريمْ

I said: “What is with them?” He said to me:

“A generous book about love was composed”