وقفنا فلولا أننا راضنا الهوى

لهتَّكنا عند الرقيب نحيبُ

We stopped, else had we not been pleased with passion

We would have cried out before the watcher with lament

وفي دون ما نلقاهُ من ألم الهوى

تُشقُّ جيوبٌ بل تشقُّ قلوبُ

And below what we face of the pain of passion

Robes, nay hearts, are torn asunder

ولما بَصُرنا بالرقيب ولحظهِ

ولحظي على عين الرقيب رقيبُ

And when we saw the watcher and his glance

And my glance was a watcher over the watcher's eye

صددنا فكلُّ قد طوى تحت صدرِهِ

فؤاداً لهُ بين الضلوع وجيبُ

We turned away, and each had folded beneath his chest

A heart for him between the ribs and bosom