His two gazelle eyes are lion-catching

From which a rain of arrows flows upon me

The bow of his eyebrows and the arrow of his eyelashes

Are witnesses that he is the ruler over the soul

Like his tangled hair, I am tangled from it

For its scent is better than musk and ambergris

In those two locks, this soul twists from that

For the heart is a captive of the chain of his hair

Do not say that cypress of ours is your equal

For our moon is unparalleled in beauty

I will throw this head before him

Although the head is insignificant before him

Prostrate yourself to the image of the king's face

The image of the king is the minister of reality