1. Wrap me in papers of tenderness and hyacinths,
And leave the linen away from my body in isolation,

2. And from the litter of ivory take me down and stretch me out slowly,
Above the flowers remains me.

3. Do not mourn me with regret, but chant
The song of bliss and the prime of youth,

4. Let the wailing above me go, o daughter of the field, and recite
Songs of the delightful days of harvest.

5. Do not overwhelm my chest with sorrow, but draw
With your hands on it the shapes of love,

6. And do not speculate, leave the ether in peace,
And sing with me the glory of survival with joy.

7. Do not wear black after me with sadness,
But dress in white for my happiness,

8. And do not tire your breaths with depression
To recount a story about my loss and anguish.

9. Close your eyes away from me, for you
Will see my example among you every moment,

10. And above outstretched branches lay me in comfort
And walk slowly with me to the land of the plateau,

11. And do not bury me in graves where
There is crowdedness that erases my comfort and pleasure,

12. Bones worn by decay and skulls
With crackling that denies the tranquility of my solitude,

13. To the pine forest carry me protected
And in its heart dig my grave for my seclusion,

14. And where chamomile blossoms and violets,
There are my neighbors, there is my paradise,

15. And dig a deep grave for me, beware that
My bones do not drift to the valley in a flood,

16. So spacious that the ghosts of the nights may visit me
And sit in my company,

17. And from me remove the clothes and leave your brother
To the heart of this land without robes,

18. Slowly and gently lay me down with wisdom
Upon my mother’s chest, for she is most deserving of my embrace,

19. And I hope that you will immerse me and mix
With the purest soil, with every handful,

20. With buds of jasmine, sometimes lily and iris
The amount of a fistful,

21. So above the grave they grow drawing from
Its elements, when the winds blow,

22. And they spread through the winds when they stir
The scents of my heart in pleasant gardens,

23. And reveal to the face of the gazelle what secrets
The meaning of my rest after my absence held,

24. And if the breeze blows, it is gentle, for it
Remembers the passersby with my kindness,

25. Oh, leave me now alone in seclusion
I sleep between my mother’s arms with a tranquil eye,

26. And walk back to the dwellings as the specter of tranquility walked
Through barren valleys,

27. And like the scattering of flowers, disperse from me
With the breaths of April when they blow from it,

28. And return to those homes where you will find
Those from whom death has strayed,

29. And leave my place for the one you seek
Has forever turned away from the face of this plain,