مَنْ ذَا الَّذِي مِنْ مُقْلَتَيْه يَقِيني

هَذَا الذي أَخْلَصْتُ فيه يَقِيني

Who is he whose eyes steal my certainty?

This one for whom I have dedicated my certainty.

ريمٌ له خَجِل الرُّمَاةُ وإِنَّما

يَرْمِي بقوسَيْ حاجبٍ وجُفون

A gazelle whose shyness rivals archers, and yet

He shoots with the bows of an eyebrow and eyelids.

ظبيٌ ضعيفُ اللَّحظ إِلاَّ أَنَّه

في الفتْكِ بالعشَّاقِ ليثُ عَرِين

A delicate gazelle, except when

He pounces ferociously upon lovers.

يمشي فيدْعُوه القضيبُ سَرَقْتَني

وإِذا رَنا قال الغزالُ عُيوني

He walks, so his hips call out “You have stolen me!”

And when he hums, the gazelle says “My eyes!”

أَلِفُ ابنِ مُقلة في الكتابِ كَقَدِّه

والصَّدْعُ مِثْلُ الواوِ في التَّحْسِين

I have known the poetry of Ibn Muqla like his calligraphy,

And its cadence is like the Waw in adornment.

وشعْرُه لثغرِه سينٌ بدت

حارَ ابنُ مقلة عنْدَ تِلْك السين

His poetry to his lips is a Shin that appeared.

Ibn Muqla was perplexed by that Shin.

أَنا لا أَريد تنزُّهاً في رَوْضةٍ

نظري إِلى وَجَناتِه يكفيني

I do not wish for chastity in a garden,

My gaze upon its beauty suffices me.

يا للرِّجالِ ويَا لَها من فِتْنةٍ

في وضع ذاك النَّقْط وَسْط النُّونِ

Oh what temptation in men!

In placing that dot in the middle of the Nun.

والعينُ مثلُ العين لكن هذه

كُحِلتْ بِحُسْن وَقاحَةٍ ومُجون

The eye is like an eye, but this one

Is lined with the kohl of impudence and coquetry.

لاقيتُه يوماً فقال أَما ترى

ما قد جرى منهم لَقدْ ظلمُوني

One day I met him and he said “Do you not see

What they have done? They have wronged me!”

طَمِع الغزالُ بأَن يعارِضُ مُغْل

تي والبدْرُ أَيضاً طَامِعَاً يَحْكِيني

The gazelle hoped to rival my beloved,

And the moon too hoped to mimic me.

سبحان من خلع العُيُون وقال كُنْ

فتكَونَتْ في أَحْسَنِ التَّكوينِ

Glory to Him who created eyes and said “Be!”

And they came to be in the most beautiful creation.