تُباري قُرحَةً مثلَ ال

تُباري قُرحَةً مثلَ ال

وَتيرةِ لم تكن مَغدا

وَتيرةِ لم تكن مَغدا

It rivals a white forehead-mark like the

You rival a festering wound not inclined to heal

white rose—not a mark made by plucking.

And a tempo that was never gentle