O lamenting love, what has happened to your sense of honor? Alas, that delicate body of the beloved is utterly drenched in sweat.

In this couplet, the lover chides his own unrestrained passion and clamor. He feels a tender sense of guilt that his relentless weeping and fervor have distressed the delicate beloved, leaving their frail frame drenched in sweat. It captures the painful sensitivity of true devotion, where causing even the slightest discomfort to the one you adore feels like a profound betrayal of love's dignity.