1. يا دارَ سلْمى لو رَدَدتِ السلامْ

    ما همّ فيك الحزْنُ بالمستهامْ

    O dwelling of Salma, had you returned the greeting,

    sorrow would not have assailed the love-stricken within you.

  2. همودُ رسمٍ منكِ تحتَ البلى

    مُحَرِّكٌ مِنِّي سكونَ الغَرَام

    The stillness of a trace of you beneath decay

    stirs the stillness of passion within me.

  3. لمتُ عَلَيكِ الدَّهرَ في صَرْفِهِ

    وقلتُ للأحداث صَمِّي صَمَام

    I reproached Time for what its turns had done to you,

    and said to calamities, "Do your worst, calamity!"

  4. وقَامَ في الخُبْرِ لِمُسْتَخْبِرٍ

    سكوتُ مغناكِ مقامَ الكلام

    And, in giving tidings to one who asked,

    your dwelling's silence took the place of speech.

  5. يا بارِقَ الجَوِّ تَبَسَّمْ بِها

    وابْكِ عَلَيها بِدُموعِ الغَمام

    O lightning of the sky, smile upon it,

    and weep over it with the tears of clouds.

  6. وَحَلّهَا بالنَّوْرِ من روضةٍ

    تَفُضّ عن فأرَةِ مِسْكٍ خِتام

    And adorn it with blossoms from a garden

    that breaks the seal on a musk-pod,

  7. حَتّى أَرى عنها ظِباءَ الفلا

    مُرَحَّلاتٍ بِظباءِ الخيام

    until I see the gazelles of the wilderness

    driven from it by the gazelles of the tents—

  8. مِن كُلِّ هَيفاءَ غُلاميّةٍ

    مُلْتَبِسٌ بالغُصْنِ منها القَوَام

    each a slender-waisted, boyish maiden,

    whose figure could be mistaken for a bough.

  9. تُديرُ عَينَي رَشَإٍ فيهِما

    من فَتْرَةِ الطرفِ شبيهُ السّقام

    She turns a fawn's two eyes, in which

    the languor of the gaze resembles sickness.

  10. تروحُ والعنبرُ والعودُ في

    ليلٍ من الفرعَ صقيلِ الظلام

    She goes forth, with ambergris and aloeswood in

    a night of tresses with lustrous darkness.

  11. تمنعُ أُخْتَ الشمسِ منها فماً

    فيهِ أَخو الدّرِّ وَأُختُ المُدام

    She bars the sun's sister from her mouth,

    where are the brother of pearls and the sister of wine.

  12. لو أنّ لي حكماً بربع الحمى

    أعطيتُهُ من كلّ خطبٍ ذمام

    If I held sway over the dwelling in the sanctuary,

    I would grant it protection from every calamity,

  13. حَتّى أَرى بِالوَصْلِ حَبْلَ الهوَى

    لا يتُقّى بِالبَينِ مِنهُ انصِرام

    until, through union, I see the cord of love

    with no fear of its being severed by parting.