مُفتَتِنٌ في نَفسِهِ فاتِن

لِغَيرِهِ لَيسَ لَهُ كُنهُ

Charming in his own soul, charming to others

His essence is not known

جالَ عَلى مِرآتِهِ لَحظُهُ

فَاِنعَكَسَ السِحرُ بِهِ عَنهُ

His gaze fell upon his mirror

So magic was reflected from him

أَبرَزَهُ الحَمّامُ في حِليَةٍ

مِن عَرَقٍ لُؤلُؤُها مِنهُ

The bath brought him out adorned

With beads of sweat like pearls from him

يَحيا بِهِ الوَجدُ وَذاكَ اِسمُهُ

فَلا يَسلني أَحَدٌ مَن هو

Passion lives through him and that is his name

So let no one ask me who he is

قَد قُلتُ لِلبَدرِ اِمتِحاناً لَهُ

كُن مِثلَهُ يا بَدرُ أَو كُنهُ

I said to the full moon as a test

Be like him, O moon, or be him