1. Your torment, daughter of nobles, is easy,
And your father's tyranny is justice and equity.

2. So be unjust and seek to kill me, oppress me,
And torture me, for I do not hope,

3. Nor become tranquil, nor reconcile with enemies.
My nobles have pride and favour.

4. A people who have brought us to a place,
Above the heights, above the stars rising high.

5. When they were unjust we were just in their passion,
And if they were mighty due to their might we submitted.

6. How can I have resolve when my body—
You see—has diminished leaving the lesser part?

7. O birds of prey, by the right of the Lord,
Blessings be upon you, perhaps you may know where they camped,

8. And release a lover from the captivity of a people
For whom his love holds captivity and anguish.

9. They call me while the horses of death run.
Your place cannot be matched by any place.

10. And now they criticise me for my mother
And my complexion whenever they gather and pitch camp.

11. The turns of fate have become despicable to me
And its people have become despicable and few to me.

12. And I have in every battle a narrative
When the heroes hear it they submit.

13. I severed their necks and captured many of them
While they in their great numbers thought little of it.

14. And I protected the women with the edge of my sword
While my enemies in their great fear turned in retreat.

15. I would arouse the din and the horses would charge
Heavily with the horsemen, they do not tire.

16. And I would return while they have retreated lightly,
Confused by the complaints, recoiling.

17. And I would be content with humiliation among people
Whose rights I observe even if they made my murder licit.

18. And I would be patient for the beloved even if he is unkind to me
And I do not leave his love nor do I become tranquil.

19. Perhaps time will favour me with closeness
And after estrangement the bitter life becomes sweet.