1. Do the living remember those in the graves,
And grow accustomed to them as the longing of a traveler?

2. Does the compassionate mother thirst for her son
When the hands of fate snatch him away?

3. Saying, "Oh, if only he clung to my ribs
As was my habit with him, with sleep filling my eyelids."

4. I would press his whispering soul to my chest
And fill my heart with him after seeing him.

5. Does the enamored youth bear his torment
And yearn for the magic of radiant eyes?

6. Remembering the days of trysts and tokens
And days of joining with gentle companions.

7. If the pangs of love stirred in his chest
And passion's agony seized him,

8. He would weep his lament in the grave's darkness
Wrestling with imaginings, the persistent visitor.

9. What is the state of a withered, thirsty child
When the arrow of death, so cruel, strikes him?

10. Does he remember at every moment his mother's breast
And weep for the veiled, noble ladies?

11. Does the wretched dream in the slumber of decay
Of what he used to encounter on wanton nights?

12. Thus he dreams of wealth at times and luxury
And poverty and destitution at others.

13. Can the scorned breathe a sigh
From a heart wounded in conscience?

14. On a peak of anxiety heaped by the days of life
And its bow is the burden of crushing years.

15. He read it as sorrow that exceeded his endurance
And his companion in life was the darkness of thoughts.

16. You would think him a bound doll
Besides regrets that followed in succession.

17. You would think him a bird that arched its wings
But it was not a bird freed from its nest.

18. My soul will tell me when its time comes
And I become like one captive in graves.