"They blame the girl of whom I'm fond

يعيبونها عندي بشقرة شعرها
فقلت لهم: "هذا الذي زانها عندي"

يعيبون لون النور والتبر، ضلّة
لرأي جهول في الغواية ممتدّ!

وهل عاب لون النرجس الغضّ عائبٌ
ولون النجوم الزاهرات على البعد؟

وأبعدُ خلق الله من كل حكمة
مفضّلُ جرمٍ فاحمِ اللون مُسودّ

به وصفت ألوان أهل جهنم
ولبسة باكٍ مثكل الأهل محتدّ

ومذ لاحت الرايات سوداً تيقّنت
نفوس الورى أن لا سبيل إلى الرشد

"They blame the girl of whom I'm fond
Because her lovely hair is blond:
"But that's exactly", I reply,
"What makes her pretty, to my eye!"

They criticize the colour bright
Of glittering gold, and shimmering light,
And they are crazy so to do,
And stupid, and erroneous, too.

Is there just a cause to crab, think you,
The tender-sweet narcissus' hue,
Or is the twinkle of a star
So hateful to behold afar?

Of all God's creatures, I declare
That man of wisdom has least share
Who chooses, in his darkened soul,
To love a body black as coal.

Black is the hue, the Scriptures tell,
Of the inhabitants of Hell;
Black is the robe the mourner dons,
And mothers who have lost their sons.

Moreover, since from Khorasan
The black Abbasid banners ran,
The souls of men know, to their cost,
The cause of righteousness is lost"

~ Ibn Hazm ~