1. How could I forget, when you know that I

    can find no way to forget?

  2. Even fire is pained by my innards; its heat

    adds still more anguish to my heart’s burning anguish.

  3. A fire born of glances. Of me, never desired

    your eyes aught but that I should be slain.

  4. Even if all your forsaking were reunion,

    compared with what I suffer from you, that would be little.

Sol 5.6