1. When the moonbird trills amid the boughs
It helps the melancholy heart sing its woes;

2. And when the turtledove begins to moan,
In deepest woe for it my tearducts groan.

3. My God! but have you seen a love forlorn
With broken heart and tear-encrimsoned eyes

4. Whom fickle Fortune ceaselessly does scorn
And hands him over unto Death’s sharp claws?

5. He weeps for dwellings and the folk therein
When slow-paced camels journey with their freight;

6. And in his bosom hides grief’s secret pain
Which tears then publicly incarnadine.