لِلَّهِ خَطُّ كِتابٍ خِلتُهُ دُرَراً

لِلَّهِ خَطُّ كِتابٍ خِلتُهُ دُرَراً

أَو رَوضَةً رَصَّعَتها السُحُب بِالبَرَدِ

أَو رَوضَةً رَصَّعَتها السُحُب بِالبَرَدِ

How wondrous a book's script, which I took for pearls,

Each line of God's script became precious pearls

or a garden the clouds had studded with hail.

Or a garden graced by clouds with hail

أَبدَت بِظاهِرِهِ أَيدي مُجَلَّدُهُ

أَبدَت بِظاهِرِهِ أَيدي مُجَلَّدُهُ

نَقشاً عَلى جِلدَةٍ أَوهَت بِهِ جِلَدي

نَقشاً عَلى جِلدَةٍ أَوهَت بِهِ جِلَدي

Its bookbinder's hands displayed upon its exterior

Its covers showed the hands of its binder

a design on leather that thereby sapped my fortitude.

Text etched on leather that captivated my skin