طَوى شَجَناً في الصَدرِ فَالدَمعُ ناشِرُه

فَإِن أَنتَ لَم تَعذُرهُ فَالشَوقُ عاذِرُه

He hides a passion in his breast, his tears revealing it,

If you don't excuse him, longing itself will be his excuse.

هَوىً عَذُبَت مِنهُ مَوارِدُ بَدئِهِ

فَلَمّا نَمَت أَعيَت عَلَيهِ مَصادِرُه

Tasting the sweet streams flowing from his love,

But when it grew overwhelming, the sources exhausted him.