نَزيهة لَيسَ للمنديل

فيما بَيننا حاجَه

Virtuous, the handkerchief needs us not

Between us no need for it exists

وَإِن سرَّك أَن يَبقى

فَأَنوارك وَهّاجه

And though it pleases you for it to remain

Your radiance rages afire

فَيا مَن تَأمر الحس

ن فَيلقي دونَها تاجَه

So you who command the senses

To cast off their crown before you

لَقَد قَطّعتِ بِالدل

ل عُرى قَلبي وَأَوداجه

With passion you have severed

The cords of my heart and its sinews