1. Who is there for the stranger when he complains,
And the night intensifies his call,

2. And his tears flow down his cheeks,
And they are his consolation,

3. His sighs and the fervor of his passion,
And the inspiration of the heavens,

4. And his ribs are the course of sighs,
And his cheek the path of blood,

5. The moon knows not his agony,
Nor can the stars find their way,

6. So have mercy on him, O oppressor,
And oppress him, O merciful one,

7. It is enough of his affliction
That wishes are empty.