1. Make my heart an inkwell and my blood the ink,
Stretch my eyelids as parchment, though they ache

2. From what you write, let the ache intensify.
O You who made judges laugh at me and weep

3. At the sickness in my heart and in their eyes.
The beautiful ones don't know who pines for them,

4. Yet You're more famous in the scrolls than any name.