كَم تَصدَعُ بالمَلام قَلباً ضَمِنا

مَهلاً فَوراء ذاكَ سِرٌّ كَمَنا

How often you blame with reproach a heart harboring

Gently, behind that is a secret like ours

لَو ذُقتَ مِنَ الغَرامِ ما ذُقتُ أَنا

لَم تعذل قَطُّ عاشِقاً مُمتَحَنا

If you tasted from love what I have tasted

You would never reproach a tried lover