يا أَيُّها الصَبُّ المُعَنّى بِهِ

يا أَيُّها الصَبُّ المُعَنّى بِهِ

ها هُوَ لا خَلَّ وَلا خَمرُ

ها هُوَ لا خَلَّ وَلا خَمرُ

O lovelorn one, tormented by him,

O object of my passion, behold!

Behold him—neither vinegar nor wine.

Neither honey nor wine remains;

سَوَّدَ ما وَرَّدَ مِن خَدِّهِ

سَوَّدَ ما وَرَّدَ مِن خَدِّهِ

فَعادَ فَحماً ذَلِكَ الجَمرُ

فَعادَ فَحماً ذَلِكَ الجَمرُ

He has blackened what he made rosy on his cheek,

That flush which on your cheek was wont to dwell

So that glowing ember has turned to charcoal.

Is now but embers, ashen and cold.