1. I have a strife from which there is no retreat
The moon has a veil from which there is no rising

2. How strange that its brightness was eclipsed
And its beauty returned after the eclipse

3. Or is the Most High not truly characterized
By anything other than care for one distressed?

4. Soon time wrongfully robbed me of him
And fate ravenously deprived me of that precious comrade

5. It folded up the scrolls of his mention and covenants
As if it never kept its promise in the week

6. O would that he had continued to delight me with himself
Forever risings for the bright dawn and gifts shared

7. My craving for him bidding farewell cannot be appeased
Even by reckoning his return until the final judgment

8. How many an impenetrable army did he hold back from him
If something for the doves could be warded off

9. For the heart the state of being torn on the day of his death notice
Each is in the grip of destruction, split open

10. If places and risings are devoid of him
Breasts and ribs are not devoid of him

11. By his beauty with which he joined the earth
With some of which I am less endowed

12. If I tried to forget him, my recollection
Would stir like a flaming blaze or copious downpour

13. It suffices as a witness to gentleness and love
That the forbidden of disasters is prevented

14. The friendly assembly will not cease to cheer my eyes
As long as shutting brings them together in seclusion

15. In it prairies and meadows reconciled
And springs and volcanoes connected

16. No feast or celebration makes his proximity joyous
And his absence is lonely and dismal

17. I did not happily attend celebrations
But fearing it might be said I was disconsolate

18. Make pilgrimage to fresh graves, the soil of which
The breeze perfumed as it freely blew

19. For them I profess what I pour out, but in fact
My being there is gloom and anguish

20. And the gift in those sacred places
Is a barren heart, and the tears, a downpour

21. He is as you knew him, so do not blame me
And consider my abundant youthful folly an intercession

22. And when you hear my dreamy discourse
Judge it as fabricated