1. I have a heart that longing nearly wrests away,

    yet it does not know what its ribs conceal.

  2. It remains thirsty, folded around burning anguish,

    though all night it gazes on water that denies itself to it.

  3. Do as you will, O night, and draw out your darkness—for already

    the heralds of a dawn have gleamed, and its rising is near.

  4. O full moon, how many a sleepless watcher keeps vigil over you!

    Distant even in nearness, you never cease to dismay him.

  5. How wondrous your worth! How many a passion-stricken lover calls on you—

    one parted from you; you answer his plea when he hears it.

  6. While he sees his allotted share as scant, it comforts him,

    until he sees affection toward him overflowing, and it makes him hope for more.

  7. Is there, then, some way for Time to preserve him

    until he appears in an assembly of yours that will exalt him?

Sol 5.6