1. O you whom I conceal my love from
Yet it appears from me, and I do not conceal

2. You see me and know my love for you
Yet you conceal from me that you have known

3. Do you permit the spread of what I have folded
Within my soul, or do you act with modesty?

4. For you are bliss, you are tribulation
You are remedy, you are sickness

5. I recall times when passion
And I, for my life, was as you suspect

6. If I am suspected in passion
And my eyes mix water with blood

7. So why, when my eyes see you
Can tears not help but flow?