1. With your father I protect you from misfortunes and decay,
O lute but rather from the strikers of mischief.

2. With it the dirges were grieved as if they were
Two abandoned lovers complaining.

3. Its neck sways unsteadily, its tongue in its ear,
O you who saw an ear standing upright like a tongue!

4. And as if the place of its sound were the buzzing of wasps
And as if it were two sticks kindling each other.

5. Lightened of its parts, for its figure,
It has no weight to tilt the scale of the balance.

6. And as if its handle were the wrist of an arm
Adorned with pearls and cornelian.

7. In its breast from its hole are two eyes
And at its throat a necklace of ivory bits.

8. No wonder, mistress of the throng, so we are consoled,
The master of the festivals remains while the master of the staffs perishes.