1. Give me back the sleep that has been stolen from my eyes,
And tell me where my heart has gone.

2. When I was pleased with love as my abode,
I found that sleep was angry with my eyes.

3. So I said, “Let it rage,” though silence better suits me,
Lest beauty be angered if I cry, “Let it rage!”

4. I have no right to retaliate against Moses and his sanctity,
Though he is free while I am duty bound and weary.

5. I apologize to him for my spilled blood,
Saying, “I blamed him for shedding it out of fatigue.”

6. He whom God molded from the water of life
And whose thick-lipped mouth still drips moisture,

7. My soul delights in anguish over him and embraces it.
Do you know why my soul is so attuned to anguish?

8. They said, “We knew you as a man of wisdom, so what
Has misled you?” I said, “Seek the cause in his glance.”

9. O he who is absent, my worries for our separation consume me,
And the gloomy one pours forth when the sun of daybreak is veiled.

10. I cast the sun of his image into the mirror of my thoughts,
So its reflection kindled flames in my innermost parts.

11. When you left, I lost hold of patience and its cord,
And could find no spring or nightfall for its tent peg.

12. How many nights have I spent with the stars witnessing
My prostration by a longing that overpowers if it prevails.

13. I moan softly in the dark, and if its stars could speak,
They would echo my astonished state back to me.

14. I robbed the agates of tears in sorrow until I saw
The celestial orbits had been plundered.

15. Can an eye that you gaze upon be quenched
When the night’s darkness has taken all it craves?

16. What can a lover do when you are mentioned but
Weep, complain, yearn, or quiver?

17. He sees your phantom in clear water when he wants
A drink, and so is sated without having drunk.