1. How eloquent is the glance, my beloved,
And how sweet is the whispering with the eyes,

2. No masterful poet was moved,
By the shaking of yearning over the intentions.

3. More articulate and sweeter,
Than the gaze of the eyelid in tranquility,

4. A glance that illuminates what was hidden,
In the darkness of the buried and forgotten past.

5. It has a glow, when it extends,
Over the delicate and the grievances,

6. It lent its light to them, so they returned,
Moistened on the interior of the grieving one.

7. O delight of the eye, you are enough for me,
Without you, my branches would not have borne fruit,

8. Without you, I could not have endured my life,
And not been able to bear the clamor of the foolish,

9. I wish that hopes could avail,
If I were to be gentle like the branches,

10. And that I were a songbird singing,
In your shady and faithful shade,

11. Be for me, so I may come and begin,
On the ground, the eternal sorrows,

12. So that roses and flowers may grow,
And the brilliance of the mouth and forehead,

13. These are merely the rhymes of the gambler,
In the night, the wailing of the grieving one.