مَرْحُ الجِيادِ مَعَ رَقْصِ الهِجانِ كذا

حَرُّ الجِلادِ أَراهُ جُلَّ مَقْصُودي

The neighing of steeds with the dancing of lithe maidens

The heat of branding irons seems my heart's desire

أَضْحَى غَرامي وتَهْيامي ومُطَّرَبي

في الضمَّر القُودِ لا في الخُرَّدِ الرُّودِ

My passion and infatuation and yearning self

Lie in the embracing bosom, not in the secluded cell