1. The weeping poet complained of blindness that had afflicted him,
And nothing is darker than when blindness strikes the eyes of a poet,

2. Who laments with an eye that destruction had left
Nothing but a source of deep, hidden sorrow,

3. And the sun's eye glances at the sparks on his forehead,
So he closes his eyelids in sadness,

4. And he asks them: Did lightning flash in the darkness?
And did the bright faces rise in it?

5. And does precious pearl and jewelry shine
On the neck, or did the pebbles remain like gems?

6. His chest almost splits with his sighs
When he tries to appease it with a bewildered cry,

7. Your horizon is generous to the eyes of the wolf, O horizon, with teeth
To guide it in its slaughter of the butcher,

8. And throw it in a deep, calm well,
And spill it over the flooding marshes,

9. And rob me of a light I saw through your inspiration,
So I revealed what the darkness of the chambers had hidden,

10. And give back to the pupil meaning shining
Illuminating the darknesses of mysteries,

11. For whom do the universes adorn themselves if the one who does not see
Cannot perceive their wonders?

12. The world was only a beautiful sight,
And fate was kind in it only to onlookers,

13. And would I have feared death except that it
Will conceal that beautiful sight from me?

14. So here I am, with no effort left in life to emigrate from it,
And no doubt, death will visit me,

15. I have gathered the misery of life in the darkness of decay,
Oh, the agony of a wretched man!

16. I see the morning aroused with the eyelid of a sleeper,
And my heart watches it with sad wakefulness,

17. And who do I have in this existence with a glance,
I could see him before the dust blinded my sights?

18. So O heart spend your light and be content
Before the sun with the splendor of bright faces.