إِنّي حُمِمتُ وَلَم أَشعُر بِحُمّاكا

حَتّى تَحَدَّثَ عُوّادي بِشَكواكا

I was consumed with passion though I did not feel your fever

Until my visitors told me of your plight

يا لَيتَ حُمّاكَ بي أَو كُنتُ حُمّاكا

إِنّي أَغارُ عَلَيها حينَ تَغشاكا

Oh, if only your passion were for me or I were your passion

I envy it when it overwhelms you

حُمّاكَ جَمّاشَةٌ حُمّاكَ عاشِقَةٌ

لَو لَم تَكُن هكَذا ما قَبَّلَت فاكا

Your passion is intense, your passion is that of a lover

If it were not so, it would not have kissed your mouth