1. شَعَراتٌ قَد رُكّبت في نِصابٍ

    هُنَّ سَوطُ العَذابِ فَوقَ الذُبابِ

    Strands of hair have been fitted into a handle;

    They are the whip of torment over the flies.

  2. وَلِذاكَ النِصابِ صَورَةُ كَفٍّ

    وُضِعَت مِنهُ مَوضِعَ الأَذنابِ

    And that handle bears the shape of a hand,

    Set at its tail end.

  3. ذاتَ رِفقٍ بِحَكِّ جِلديَ تُهدي

    راحَةً مِن أَذىً بِلا إِتعابِ

    Gentle in scratching my skin, it offers

    Relief from discomfort without causing fatigue.

  4. يا لَها مِن مِذبَّةِ زينِ كَفٍّ

    جَمَعَت بَينَ راحَةٍ وَعَذابِ

    What a fly-whisk, an adornment for the hand,

    Bringing together comfort and torment!