1. My Master, how often the breeze carried my greetings,
Why then do you reproach me and prolong my blame?

2. And how many letters with the post I have sent,
I even deprived myself of you in my dreams.

3. And how often I laughed at the flashes of my letters,
When my pens wept with their whining.

4. So ask the breeze about the lover, what ails him,
Wasting away with increased sickness.

5. My heart in love with you, O lonely gazelle,
Complains of its thirst to your smiling lips.

6. And ask your apparition about my passion, for it
Is before me in the night and all day long.

7. I do not deviate from affection, for I am
In the origin of longing like my seal.