Thy love into my very heart
Dug [its way] and made a pit.
O beautiful, holder of a handkerchief,
Thy signs burned my very heart.
O beautiful, I am not thy equal;
Thy price is that of precious wood.
I’ve never seen so excellent among the Arabs,
O beautiful one of sweet manners.
Thy breast is as the tablet of the Khaṭîb;
O that fate would bestow thee on me!