إِذَا مَا كَتَمْتُ الْحُبَّ كَانَ شَرَارَةً

وَإِنْ بُحْتُ بِالْكِتْمَانِ كَانَ مَلامَا

When I conceal my love, it's a raging fire,

And if I reveal it, it becomes blame.

فَكَيْفَ احْتِيَالِي بَيْنَ أَمْرَيْنِ أَشْكَلا

عَلَيَّ فَصَارَا شِقْوَةً وَغَرَامَا

So how can I decide between two affairs, both difficult?

For me they have become misery and passion.