1. The evening fell descending on souls so oppressively,
Inflicting on them a miserable, wretched air.

2. Look and you will find it captured by the spear of fate,
Shaken, dressed in the sword of the moment.

3. You see it either stretched forever for this one,
Taking aim, and for that one you find it after.

4. With the narcissus of the moment, it protects the rose and its garden,
So woe to whoever comes to it intending to pick.

5. A rose mingling with twigs from its conversations,
Both this and that watered by the spring of beauty.

6. If I said a branch surpassing branches bent,
Or said a breeze scent surpassing the breeze's scent,

7. Then the breeze would know from me that this is but a breeze.
O witness of a human with eyes that if he did not spill

8. The lovers’ blood, would not change.
The full moon graced him only with glory and radiance,

9. Neither did the sun except with joy and light.
I was destined to be roasted by the fire of union

10. And I have always been for you the elite of creation.
If only I could see you suddenly appear

11. A face that has always avoided showing itself to me.
In my confusion, if I did not speak revealing,

12. Then in my love for you I have become accusing.
For my critic it is so easy to blame you

13. That would calm my body without guidance.
Damned is my critic! If only

14. He were afflicted with the separation from you that afflicted me.
My heart and eyes bought my murder from you.

15. Can I abandon you, O my soul, when you are it?
Oh love! How much does its rule judge me,

16. Never seeing for me a single clear day?