1. O blossom molded from trunks
That bent and pressed with gentle squeeze

2. You have not forgotten what you entrusted in them
Of the melodies of the birds of paradise

3. So the tune is a profound secret within
And it is vigilant over its secret

4. If the strings awaken it, it returns
Those melodies in affection

5. No sadder sound than that of the lute
Alas for it, it is a forlorn lute