وَما تَصنَعُ بِالسِرِّ

إِذا لَم تَكُ مَجنونا

What would you ask of secrets, if you aren't a little mad?

When your treatment for love's burden

إِذا عالَجتَ ثِقلَ الحُب

بِ عالَجتَ الأَمَرَّينا

is to treat the two afflictions alike -

though with one matter you've revealed

وَقَد بُحتَ بِأَمرٍ كا

نَ في قَلبِيَ مَكنونا

what lay hidden in my heart,

and with another you've raged over

وَقَد هِجتَ بِما حاوَل

تَ أَمراً كانَ مَدفونا

what should have stayed well buried.