1. I have drunk the cups of love continuously, yet I have no inclination for the spray of union, nor rapture.
The witnesses of my love are between my eyelids and my sight, so that a tear dictates to me and a sigh awakens me.

2. I was infatuated with a beloved I pine for the mention of, at the height of affliction, so I am healed but do not divulge.
My remedy is in his mirror, and death is below it, and there is no avoiding danger in the coat of mail.

3. I split for him my heart, my wrap, and my sight, out of passion, but after that who will pay me blood money?
I complained to him of ardour so I drew a draught, but this reminded me, finer than potsherds.

4. His love is my banner and his cloak is like it. So here I am, bitten, fleeing to a bite.
Powerful on my heart is the absence of love, and the board has no means of erasing the inscription.

5. I occupied my soul and the tongue with his mention, so I cannot forget him, even if I were in the bier.
I hated my life, and life is sweet, if the loved one is absent, so there is no good in living.