1. When she sings, the joyful man dies in that moment
And if she speaks, I say “Peace be upon you”

2. It is as if passion is a guest that has squeezed my liver
So my flesh is its food and my sobbing is its drink

3. I am patient with the misery that nobility has left behind
Even if clouds were to rain fire upon me

4. I disdain comforts if they were to produce for me
Slothfulness, and in some pleasures, torment