Sol 5.6

  1. The gatherings of my life have departed, O dear folk of the quarter.

    After this separation, do not tell them that I am alive.

  2. So, O east wind, greet the beloved—greet them!

    I came to morning in my longing, just as I came to evening in prisons.

  3. And I complain to a living Judge of every burning grief that coursed through my heart.

Sol 5.6