1. I hung my lute on the willow tree of despair
And went alone in my solitude, weeping for people

2. As if within me there was a grave with its loneliness
I buried all my joys and pleasures

3. Neither a grave of war, nor a sandy path
Or tombs of jinn are anything to my shelter

4. In it I buried structures and buds
The faces of youth upon them the glow of misery

5. With an axe I dug in my heart a tomb for them
And I would weep and the rocks wept from my axe

6. Better for them to bury them than their death in vain
Or for them to allow the face's waters for the lewd

7. O grave of my soul's hopes in the dust of my liver
Your sodden blood from my cruel heart waters you

8. Upon you I planted flowers without fragrance
Blackened by the fire of my breath passing over them

9. How beautiful is the black flower watered
By the teardrop of the heart protecting it, the hand of despair

10. O despair, guard it, for I am content with it
And I will not replace it with roses and myrtles

11. I have made you a guardian of its garden
Beware that the people's eyes uncover it

12. And you and grief, be in my ribs with me
I have known you both as the best of companions

13. I concealed your matter for an age, until
My heart was distressed and my breath divulged the secret

14. So if I sneak in the darkness of night hiding
Grief will shine from my eyes like a lamp

15. My grief is my anthem, had I distributed it
As a gift upon souls, it would have enriched people's souls