1. When the morning breeze blows gently,
It revives my sickly heart with its blowing.

2. And it comes to me bearing news
That my people have set out with my beloved.

3. They did not grieve for the one they left behind
In the valley's sand, cast down and covered in dust.

4. Who sighs bitterly and is consumed with passion for them
Whenever they move on their camels.

5. Oh Abala, though they betrayed my vows
Your father does not tend to kindness.

6. I have borne injustice and estrangement with all my strength
Despite myself, though it goes against my nature.

7. I have weathered the blows of fate until
Many seemed to me too few.

8. The raven of separation returned to me until
It was as if I had killed its nestling.

9. A bird sang in the branches
With a voice of yearning to heal the sick heart.

10. It wept and I lent it my eyes,
Its crying redoubled my weeping.

11. I said to it “You have wounded my heart
And your wailing revealed the lurking disease.

12. You left me no tears in my eyes
Nor a body to live in, wasted and weak.

13. Estrangement leaves me no patience
To seek the places and traces.

14. I grew used to sickness until my body
When missing grief fell ill.

15. Had I removed the armor from myself
You would have seen behind it a dreadful form.

16. In that dreadful form is the sword of a soul
Whose edge makes even polished swords seem dull.”