1. Enough sorrow, you who blame my dwelling,
My body is with me, but my passion is before me,

2. Shared by every moment or tortured by every hearing,
With the spirit of a breeze or the cooing of a dove,

3. I meet those kindnesses with their like,
So I weep clouds for the dew with clouds,

4. As if I were ungrateful for forgiveness and for love,
With tears of water or the fire of passion,

5. I remembered a life with you, fresh as if
It were lent greenness from the bloom of a youth,

6. And I have no complaint against the days after you,
If water walks toward my streams,

7. It meets the light of dawn, and that is my praise,
And smells the breeze of the garden, and that is my peace,

8. And if the Nile's water increases, that is my tears,
And if the heat of summer flares up, that is my affliction.