يَا مَائِساً عَنْ غَض بَانِ

أَعْيَتْ مَحَاسِنُهُ بَيَانِي

Oh cup-bearer, cease talking about the charms

Of a beauty that has wearied my powers of description.

مَنْ يَعْبُدُ الشَّمْسَ المُنِيـ

ـرَةَ هُلْ يُلامُ عَلَى افْتِنَانِ

He who worships the radiant sun,

Can he be blamed for losing his heart?