صدودك يا أسمى أذاب حشاشتي

وأشمت عذالي وبلبل أفكاري

Your rejection, O Asma, has melted my very soul,

And made my reproachers gloat and thrown my thoughts into turmoil.

ولكنني ما زلت والحب ناصري

أدافعهم عني بصبري وأشعاري

Yet still, with love as my champion,

I fend them off with my patience and my poems.

فإن كاثروني بالوشاة وأسرفوا

ولم يغنني مهري ورمحي وبتاري

And if they muster slanderers against me and go too far,

And my colt, my spear, and my keen sword avail me nothing,

غزوتهم من مقلتيك ومدمعي

ومن نَفَسي بالسيف والسيل والنار

I would assail them, drawing on your eyes and my tears,

And on my breath—with sword, flood, and fire.