1. What you complain of has gone too far in rule and tyranny
And exceeded in its deeds and rebellion

2. If only I knew a trick
To make my eyelids a ransom for yours

3. That eye of yours blinded the eye which, if fate decreed
That from it you would become bleary-eyed

4. Since it was changed from a narcissus to anemones
It returned the flowing tears from me, compressed

5. The sword of glances slipped from it upon people
And it was more fitting that it be sheathed and wrapped

6. So you are the one who wore it out with that which is in it
If the sword is not sheathed, rust will accumulate on it