يَبكى بِجهركَ مدنَفٌ محزونُ

لم يدرِ حينَ صددتَ كيفَ يكونُ

The sorrowful, downcast lover weeps loudly,

Not knowing when you turned away how it would be.

سترَ الهوى وأسرَّ شدةَ شوقهِ

فكلاهُما بينٌ وذاكَ مصونُ

He concealed his passion and suppressed his intense yearning,

Yet both were evident, though he kept them hidden.

لا تخذلي عينيه يا عبراتِهِ

لمعينِ من أهوى عليهِ عُيونُ

Do not fail his eyes, O tears of his!

To the refuge of her he loves turn your gaze!

لم لا تدورُ بكامنٍ في قلبهِ

حَركاتُ شوقٍ ما لهنَّ سُكونُ

Why do there not churn in his heart

The stirrings of passion that know no repose?