1. We live in a world full of tears
And a life overflowing with despair and sadness

2. The cruel elements of time mock
Our sighs and scoff at us

3. In the obscurity of life we creep like ghosts
Between weeping and sighs

4. Each day a new child, each day a dead one
And tears crying over the tragedy

5. Then what? In which of our sorrowful worlds
Can we find solace for our suffering?

6. In the face of pitiless nature or
In the heart of time, which is cruel

7. We have crossed the river of life, confused,
In the darkness of seasons and years

8. And we have stood on our misery, autumn
And spring, so what is the beauty of life?

9. Often autumn has passed me and I listened
To the mournful voice of the dove

10. And I, in the stillness of my gloomy room
Yearn for the stars of the branches

11. Often in autumn I walked to the orchards
And lingered in my sorrows and gloom

12. How could I not when bitter melancholy
Had fluttered upon every branch?

13. The beautiful pigeons had abandoned
The nests, weary of the gloom of the plains

14. And the partridges chose emigration
And living in the fields of the south

15. The branches of the trees yellowed
And the flowers withered and faded

16. And the winds of autumn played with the leaves
While the clouds passed in the sky

17. Often I walked in the evening, and in my ear
Was the sound of leaves beneath my steps

18. With every step, the leaves whispered
So I collected my thoughts far away

19. I looked upon the barren fields and streams
While the sky was gloomy and dark

20. And I felt the sad owl singing
From afar between the towering palms

21. And I saw the distant river, which
Autumn's miserable hands had clothed

22. No shepherds on its banks
Herding their sheep at sunset

23. No greenery tempting the grieved to
Seek it, no beautiful serenity

24. Nothing but the moist earth, desolation
Silence, ruins, and palm trees

25. Then a shiver takes hold of my heart
And my soul is choked with sorrow

26. How bitter is autumn, O Lord, how desolate
Its mornings and cruel its evenings

27. Then comes winter with snow and rain
And wind in the stillness of nights

28. The days pass bleak and slow
Mornings and evenings dragging on

29. Flowers die in the grip of snow
And trees bare the hue of decay

30. Birds disappear into the blazing hearth
Or a cave behind the mountains

31. And evening brings the pouring rain
That weeps for human misery

32. While the winds keep shaking the palms
And grieving every suffering heart

33. Oh how gloomy are the nights of winter
Its days and how harsh they are

34. When I seclude myself by the dying embers
With a heart drowning in its sorrow

35. I hear nothing but the howling storm
Between the palms and poplars

36. And the crashing of waves on the riverbank
And the patter of rain over the shore

37. Everything around me in the universe
Is gloomy on the stormy winter nights

38. Everything around me except for my deaf
Clock in the silence of my familiar room

39. Oh my mournful clock, o you who
Have accompanied me in joy and misery

40. What is it you instill in my puzzled soul
Of sorrow on winter nights?

41. You never cease throbbing on my numb wrist
While the night is dark and stretched

42. Moments pass heavily marked
By your ticks in agonized night

43. How often I stayed up listening
To your confused ticks assaulting my ear

44. You, who counted the hours of my days
And were their messenger to me

45. Have mercy on me in winter, do not count
What remains of my life, my clock

46. And leave me to listen to the melody
Of rain over the fields and prairies

47. Leave me, for the melody of rain
Is sweeter than your overpowering voice

48. O messenger of fate and vanishing time
And voice of events and destinies

49. Leave me alone even if my night is
Gloomy under the prolonged lightning

50. Leave me to listen to thunder and rain
My clock, and cease your wailing

51. And tomorrow spring will arrive, making
Your two beloved hands sweet to my eye

52. And your ticks will become a song
That I sing and my art echoes

53. Beautiful spring, season of white birds
And flowers and brilliance and fragrance

54. When nests are clothed in vines
And birds sing at dawn

55. When shepherds take their sheep
To pasture and riverbanks bloom

56. When violets, daffodils, oranges blossom
And poplars and willows

57. When snow melts on the high peaks
And floods stream down every valley

58. And the beautiful duck returns to the shore
Among the grass and flowers

59. When the farmer goes out to the fields
With a joyful heart every morning

60. Under the spring sun he waters the roots
Of fig, orange, and apple trees

61. And birds return to their abandoned
Homeland, fascinated by spring

62. In the branches they make nests
Under the bright, pure light

63. The dove bathes and plays
Among the daffodils over the shore

64. And sings the river its sweetest songs
In the hearing of the poplars

65. And hillside flowers smile at the palms
And bow their heads to the breeze

66. While sheep frolic and the shepherd
Spends the day under the vineyards

67. And village maidens stroll and wander
Happily on the banks of brooks

68. Singing their dreams to the murmur
Of springs and thin flowers

69. And the sky of life overflows with love
As feelings and dreams awaken

70. Oh Adonis, if only I lived on earth
Where brilliance lived and darkness died

71. Oh, if only your dwelling weren't
In our gloomy world, a fleeting dream

72. Oh, if only you lasted, Adonis, on earth
And left your magical scent

73. Oh loss of dreams in the hearing of death
What good are dreams to us?

74. Spring remains but a little while
Then beauty and dreams fade away

75. Like desert flowers, soon killed
By sun and raging winds

76. And oases return to barrenness
As they were, and vivid fresh grass withers

77. So spring departs quickly
And life returns to sorrows

78. And hopes die in every heart
And souls live in deprivation

79. So it's as if life never smiled
Except to cast its gloom over our eyes

80. As if flowers never spread their fragrance
Except to stir our misery

81. And as if the lovely vitality
Were an illusion meant for the silence of graves

82. And birds sent the song of death
To every chirping soul

83. O youth of life, you are not immortal
Only the immortality of spring flowers

84. The fates do not let your vitality last
In the ardour of sorrow and tears

85. Alas, spring, o rose, o perfume
Is this the end of all beauty?

86. Does radiance thus fade away, leaving
Silence and sorrow in the stillness of night?

87. Is this, o love and beauty,
What you come to after your prime?

88. Destroyed by the hand of fleeting time
Until brilliance and reverberation expire

89. Thus, spring, oblivion and silence
End all that is beautiful

90. And man lives, squeezed by memories
And weeps over his prolonged sorrow

91. When melancholy bites my heart
In spring's meadows, and my grief grows

92. I weep over the death of butterflies
And the valley's withering greenery

93. O meanings of decline and sublime nothingness
Have mercy and be gentle with my youth

94. Do not reveal to me from everything
In my existence that I'm weary of my sorrow

95. Leave me to see spring birds
With no intent of harming them

96. And let the violet in my eye be
Immortality without decline

97. And let me live with white memories
In my beautiful, departed evening

98. Perhaps this will dispel the sorrow of summer
From my heart and revive my withered dream

99. For the beautiful meadows have withered
No more flowers or fragrance

100. And spring's joy has folded and died
The grass in its land and the water dried

101. No dove remains in the nests
Singing and feeding its chicks in daylight

102. How can birds live in the scorching sun
Playing under the burning blaze?

103. The breeze no longer loves the river
And meadow in the darkness of night

104. Flowers no longer have beautiful colors
Revealed to the sensitive

105. Everything in summer speaks of cruelty
And the sun is aflame and blaze

106. The vine arbor complains but
Supplication and wailing are futile

107. Oh how gloomy is noon in summer
When its air turns to stillness

108. And every shout fades from the air
Except the mournful creak of the waterwheel

109. And the subdued crying of doves
And crows' cawing amongst the vineyards

110. And the drone of bees filling
The heart with boredom in mournful tones

111. Then what? What does the eye see in summer
When gloomy evening approaches?

112. What but the sight of distant palms
And the trees' sorrow behind the fence?

113. What but the sight of shepherds returning
With their sheep, confused and slow

114. After a day spent under the blaze of sun
Wearied, suffering, and weary

115. What but the fishermen on the shallow river
Returning gloomy in the mournful evening

116. Having caught nothing, while the heat of day
Tormented and wearied their souls?

117. Each day passes without any catch
To console the wandering fisherman

118. Oh heart of the poor man, weary of the river,
Its waters and oars

119. At sunset he returns with the raft
Bored, suppressing tunes

120. If he sings it is with complaints
Addressed to the pulse of tormenting life

121. How often I've seen the fisherman on the barren street
Walking tortured and stunned

122. His eyelids reflecting the sorrows of a heart
Weary of life and miserable existence

123. You're not the only one grieved, o fisherman,
In the horror of frightening misery

124. It's the prison of life, its black chains
Encircling every sensitive heart

125. Such is man's way, o fisherman, o you complaining of the darkness of misery
In endless struggle with the elements

126. His dreams defied by bitter reality
And his time hardened and ungiving

127. And in the path of life he sacrifices
The joys of his youth and makes peace with his sorrow

128. For he runs after an imaginary dream
Woven by his delusions and visions

129. And strangely we taste the bitterness
Of life, despair and boredom just to live

130. What life is this? And what tragedy
Is it that we color with its eternal gloom?

131. We are forever in struggle with fate
And time wears us down and destroys us

132. Our dreams challenged by harsh truths
While pitiless time plots against us

133. And we fear the ominous tomorrow, not knowing
What our fate in it will be

134. O darkness of the unknown, how fearsome it is to ponder
Your concealed secret

135. Oh, if only in life there were escape
From the misery of fantasies and thoughts

136. In the valleys of tranquility, would that
We could shed the burden of our overwhelming fears