1. The breeze of evening in the soft meadow,
Wipe for me the sigh of my burning heart,

2. Perhaps you will pass by my wounded love,
Proceed with the rest of my painful wound.

3. I want to shed tears from my eyelids,
So my lashes will flow with hot blood.

4. The sunset said to me, it overflowed,
So I said to it, your habit is to overflow.

5. Thus I remain in vain at the hands of nights,
Neither healthy, nor sick.

6. Raise an eyelash, and lower another,
Aim the shy, hurting glance.

7. Some allow shedding the blood of innocents,
Yet claim it’s unlawful to shed a gnat's blood.

8. Time denies me for my long life,
And my virtues in it and broad glory.

9. So direct its fang to the flesh of my veins,
And hasten in it to my aching bone.

10. It makes excuses to bid my prayers farewell,
Does it bid my prayers farewell or my obligations?

11. It delights me when my poetry gets angry,
And its delight in it hurts me.

12. I have manners that fly to the Pleiades,
And a fortune fallen in the mud.

13. Look into the struggle of rhymes,
You’ll find my heart burnt from poetry.

14. If the sea of meter roars or rages,
I swim in the sea of prosody.

15. When the hands of days cast off my burden,
Do not feel safe, neither my dress nor my standing up.

16. I will create, or make it create, and be content,
With the blacks of its making, and the whites.