1. The lute has spoken of its secret
So every upbeat has left depressed

2. I compared the flow of its strings
When they are plucked after evenness and calm

3. To the face of a beloved that appeared laughing
So luck distracted for him the watcher’s eye

4. When the speaking of its strings was even
Its plucking told the good speaking of the beloved

5. The fingers feel its strings
As the doctor felt the sweat of the sick

6. So it makes us hear the motions of bliss
And unveils for us the daughters of anxiety