أُنظُر إِلى النَقشِ مِن أَطرافِها البَضَّه

أُنظُر إِلى النَقشِ مِن أَطرافِها البَضَّه

مِثلَ البَنَفسَجِ مَنثوراً عَلى فِضَّه

مِثلَ البَنَفسَجِ مَنثوراً عَلى فِضَّه

Look at the tracery on her tender fingertips,

I look at the inscription from its crumbling edges

like violets scattered upon silver.

Like violets scattered on its surface

أَو خِلتَها أَخَذَت أَطرافَ خُرَّمَةٍ

أَو خِلتَها أَخَذَت أَطرافَ خُرَّمَةٍ

فَنَضَّدَتهُ عَلى جِمارَةٍ غَضَّه

فَنَضَّدَتهُ عَلى جِمارَةٍ غَضَّه

Or you might think she had taken the tips of a khurrama plant

Or as if its angles took the edges of pottery

and arrayed them upon a tender palm heart.

And arranged it on a fresh clay tablet