وَصَفْتُ حُسْنَكِ للسّالي فجُنّ به

كأنّ للسمعِ منه رؤيةَ البصرِ

I described your beauty to the inquirer, so he went mad with desire,

As if hearing had for him the sight of vision.

فلم يزل في وجوهِ الحُسْنِ مُقتبِلاً

بالوصفِ في صُوَرٍ منها إلى صورِ

He did not cease to turn towards the faces of beauty,

With my description, from image to image.

وكيف يَخْفى عليه ما كلِفْتُ به

إذا الدّلائلُ دَلّتْهُ على القمرِ

How could what I was charged with be hidden from him

When the proofs pointed him to the moon?