1. I weep and become restless,
Weep, O unjust one, and I will console him,

2. So you may feel remorseful for imprisoning him,
He whose happiness is prolonged.

3. The letter comes from the beloved
With him represented in it, his conscience,

4. It tells of a mirage with his promise,
His deception never ceases.

5. It makes me happy and stirs in me,
Sorrow, when his lines are few.

6. And I am amazed at his stinginess,
From me, of what does not harm him.