1. Time has left nothing of it but ruins, as if
Ninety years of youth's freshness had abandoned it.

2. In its stillness it seems as though
Its spirit had departed in agony.

3. Fate had judged it, so it submitted,
And separation clothed it in dark robes.

4. How the eye wanders astray in this desolation!
It sees there nothing but debris.

5. Ruins that fill the soul with gloom,
And the winds batter it, blow upon blow.

6. The clamor of the sea when the sea is tumultuous
And wave meets wave.

7. No rest is found there for voice or echo;
As soon as it is sent forth, it dies away.

8. And one retrieves from it nothing lent to it.
The echoes cling to it as birds

9. Took flight from a desolate place.
Oh cradle of the delights of youth,

10. Strangely you have become a grave, strangely.
Bearing away from your two lovers their rapture,

11. You were for pleasure, but now you are naught but
A phantom of agonizing days.

12. Close the doors in God's name, and do not
Let the eye behold the work of time.

13. And forbid the house of passion to offer
Its hospitality, for it owes a duty to us,

14. And it were ugly to betray it after decay.