1. The gazelle whose place is in my heart has drawn far away.

    Ah, if only I knew which meadow is his pasture!

  2. I called to him in my brokenness as I bade him farewell:

    O withholding one—and graceful patience follows him.

  3. Is there any way that meeting you may come to pass?

    The fire of love blazes in my innermost being,

  4. And my eye, like a river, flows forever.

    O you through whom my rank in love is exalted,

  5. My eyelids have not done you justice, though they bleed,

    Nor has my heart been faithful to you, though it burns.

Sol 5.6