لاحَ لَنا عاطِلاً فَصِيغ لَهُ

لاحَ لَنا عاطِلاً فَصِيغ لَهُ

مَنَاطِقٌ من مَرَاشِقِ المُقَلِ

مَنَاطِقٌ من مَرَاشِقِ المُقَلِ

He appeared to us unadorned, so there were fashioned for him

No moment's vacant for us, so fashion it

girdles from the eyes’ darting glances.

Into a region from imagination's lands,

حياةُ رُوحي وفي لواحِظِهِ

حياةُ رُوحي وفي لواحِظِهِ

حَتْفيَ بين النَّشاطِ والكَسَلِ

حَتْفيَ بين النَّشاطِ والكَسَلِ

He is the life of my soul, and in his glances

My spirit's life, and in its corners lies

lies my death, between liveliness and languor.

Myself amidst activity and indolence.

ما خالُهُ من فَتيتِ عنبرِ صُدْ

ما خالُهُ من فَتيتِ عنبرِ صُدْ

غَيْهِ ولا قطْرِ صبغة الكَحَلِ

غَيْهِ ولا قطْرِ صبغة الكَحَلِ

His mole is not of crumbled ambergris from his tem-

Untouched by any speck of fragrant musk

ples, nor a drop of kohl dye,

Or tincture-drop of kohl it lacked, but yet

لكنْ سُوَيْدَاء قلبِ عاشقِهِ

لكنْ سُوَيْدَاء قلبِ عاشقِهِ

طَفَتْ على نارِ ورْدَةِ الخَجَلِ

طَفَتْ على نارِ ورْدَةِ الخَجَلِ

but the black core of his lover’s heart,

The heart of her who loves it whitely pure

which floated on the fire of the rose of bashfulness.

Has floated over passion flower's flame.