1. O mistress of poetry and dreams, sing to me
For I am weary of the gloom of the universe

2. Indeed the nights that drenched my liver
With magic have now turned against me

3. Her misfortunes slept in my soul and found
No tender heart to console her, so console me

4. And a longing from my eternity fell down
Returned by the sorrows of life and the griefs of the wretched

5. I weep for the wretchedness of life
So when I die, who will weep for it and weep for me?

6. O mistress of poetry, sing to me for my soul is weary
Of people, the sons of devils

7. The world grew bored of me and deprived me
Of the melody of fate, the singing of the two companions

8. And the night's rest filled with its tears
While the appointment of love is barren, not singing to me

9. So if I take pleasure in the darkness, grieving,
Would it avail me? What use is a griever to a griever?

10. O mistress of poetry, I am miserable, wretched
I lost what I aspired to in this lowly world

11. And you have lyres stirred
By the revelation of heaven, so bring them and sing to me

12. And chant to me around the home of sorrow a song
That removes from the soul the sorrows of the grieved

13. For my heart is a dark grave in which
Hopes were buried and cease to chant to me

14. Were it not for you in this world, the strings
Of my soul would not have touched the tunes of moments

15. Nor would I have sung enthralled, nor delighted
In life by the edge of the meadows

16. Nor would the soul have flourished in its branches, tinted
By a twilight that colors the cloud playfully with any dye

17. Nor would my life have seemed easy, rambling
In the dawn of passion in the sleepy eyes

18. O mistress of poetry, sing to me, for I am miserable, wretched
I lost what I aspired to in this lowly world