تَعرَّضَني لما خلوتُ بذكرِكُم

هَوىً كان قد أخفَيتُه في ضَمائِري

When I was alone with the memory of you

A passion arose which I had hidden in my innermost thoughts

فلَم أتَعاظَمهُ وقلتُ بقيَّة

لعَهدِ التَّصابي ليسَ هذا بِضائِري

Yet I did not make much of it and said “This cannot be

For the covenant of contentment is no misfortune for me”

فأسرَرتُه حتى تكاملَ سِرُّه

عليَّ فأَبدى دمعُ عَيني سَرائِري

So I concealed it until its secret was complete

And revealed itself through the tears my eyes did secrete

أكتِّمهُ والدَّمعُ والسُّقمُ كَشَّفا

ومَن ذا يُباري كاشِفَينِ بساتِرِ

I hide it while my tears and sickness expose it

And who can compete with such revealing secret-bearers?