لا تَحسبنَّ فرِندَ صارمِه به

وَشياً أَجادَته القُيونُ فأَبهَرا

Do not think her piercing glance but transient,

Or something lent by years now on the wane;

هَذا نَدى يمناهُ سال بمتنه

فغدا يَلوحُ بصَفحَتيهِ جَوهرا

This is pure radiance flowing from her essence,

That turns the pages of her eyes to gems again.