وَغَزالٍ عَلِقتُهُ

يَومَ دَيرِ الثَعالِبِ

I hunted a gazelle

The day I was at the monastery of foxes

مِن ظِباءِ الصَريمِ يَخ

طُرُ في زِيِّ راهِبِ

Appearing from the elevated plains of Sarim

Walking proudly like a monk in his habit

كَالقَضيبِ يو

هيهِ حَملُ الذَوائِبِ

With erect spear

Woe to whoever bears the blame!

شَدَّ زُنّارَهُ فَحَل

لَ عُقودَ المَذاهِبِ

He tightened his belt and so

Undid the knots of creeds

ما رَمى طَرفُهُ بِسَه

مٍ هَوىً غَيرِ صائِبِ

His glance shot no arrow

Except for the sake of proper aims

بِتُّ مِن حُبِّهِ عَلى

مِثلِ شَوكِ العَقارِبِ

I pine for love of him

As if bitten by the thorns of scorpions