1. O dove of the valley, singing melodiously in the flowering meadow,
You came moaning longingly, enamored,

2. Leaving no will in it from vigor,
Take with your songs in the valley and be apparent,

3. And pick the flowers from the garden of spring,
For you is the sweetest explanation in describing passion

4. And portraying its meaning with the finest description,
If one like me is intimate with you,

5. Then come, sadness is the effort of the able,
And cry and make me cry, and throw me down, for nothing

6. Brings joy to the ardent but the ardent,
My tears flowed, my eye poured blood,

7. From the burning of the blazing fire,
Can the youthful compete with the singing, happy nightingale,

8. Living luxuriously, with bright eyes,
He knows not what love and yearning are,

9. No, nor spent the night awake like the sleepless lover,
If he endured my agony or felt

10. What was sung above the blossoming branch,
Or absence threw him like the one it threw

11. Whose lips overflowed with weeping and wakefulness,
And sickness and fever afflicted him like me, and dimmed

12. His eyes, enjoying good company in the dusk,
Many a long night have I spent sleepless,

13. Tending its flowers in the darkness,
I have nothing but complaining of anguish

14. From a love whose embers burn my heart,
Whenever the faint lightning flashed,

15. My falling tears poured forth,
And the morning breeze kindles in my heart a burning

16. By reminiscing its fragrance,
It conveyed the scent of the steps

17. Of our nights of union in the shining moonlight,
When we shortened the hours of reunion,

18. Brief glances, from extreme shyness,
She wore the clothes of bliss and beauty,

19. For she has the adornment of beauty in leisure,
And when beauty reaches perfection,

20. She abstains from wearing jewelry and garments,
It suffices her to smile pearls

21. From nights with her symmetrical lips,
A source of essence that is strung together

22. Whose scattered pearls are in speech