Sol 5.6

  1. The one slain by your love is numbered among the martyrs.

    Come then—leave me neither patience nor fortitude.

  2. May I lose my body if it condemns emaciation—for

    I have chosen it for myself; and may I lose my heart if it complains of anguish.

  3. Passionate love has a sublime worth that no one knows

    save one who endures a yearning that burns the liver.

  4. My waywardness is rectitude, and my disgrace in my reproacher’s eyes

    is honor preserved; my straying in your passion is guidance.

  5. By God, never have I asked, “Is there, from what afflicts me,

    any deliverance for me?”—nor have I ever harbored the thought.

  6. May he cease to be, whom the wine of his anguish has made drunk

    today, yet who hopes to sober up tomorrow.

  7. O you enamored of lovers’ blood, spilling it

    willfully, fearing neither blood-money nor retribution:

  8. sheathe your glances behind their eyelids, for indeed

    you have shown us how the young gazelle takes the lion captive.

  9. Had you not, alone, sought solace in this beauty,

    I would not have spent the night alone in this sorrow for you.

  10. I had relied upon my tears and my patience;

    my tears are spent, and patience too has run out.

Sol 5.6