وما رأتْ عيْنايَ فيما مَضى
ولا رأتْ عيْنُ امرئٍ قَبلَهْ
Never, in all the years gone by, have my own two eyes seen,
nor had any man’s eye before him seen,
كشارِبٍ أشْرَب قلبِي الردَى
وبرْؤُهُ لوْ بُدِلَتْ قُبلهْ
the like of a moustache that made my heart drink death—
and its cure would be a kiss, were one given in exchange.
إنْ لمْ تُنِلْنِيها ولوْ خلسَةً
ما لِيَ في دينِ الهوى قِبْلهْ
If you do not grant it to me, even by stealth,
I have no qibla in the religion of love.
Sol 5.6