1. He wasted my dignity, the one whose beauty I admired,
Oh blossom, you who made a steadfast mountain quake,

2. It would not hurt if he would console and comfort with a visit,
An empty evening passed, fate played out as it would,

3. So I pick up pearls from the excess of his talk,
And I drink the pleasure of life from the remainder of the cup,

4. And I spent my life on him though he was my treasure,
And I spent on him my reserve of patience and companionship,

5. And I abandoned my opinion in the wilderness, blaming,
And I isolated myself from him, from all other people,

6. And I corrupted between sleep and my watcher,
And I strengthened love between my thoughts and obsessions,

7. I will divert my aspirations from him like a free man,
And I will shelter this heart from him into despair,

8. If only he would love for an hour,
Perhaps a moment of intimacy would soften his harsh heart.