Sol 5.6

  1. And one pampered and exultant knows nothing of what

    I endure from my unceasing, successive longings.

  2. If he would accept my soul in exchange for a dream-visit

    from his phantom, I would say only, “Here it is.”

  3. Forever his eyelids burden me with sickness;

    the maladies melt me away, while they remain just as they were.

  4. And for the beholder, they add new dimensions to his beauty

    and loveliness, though they themselves have reached perfection.

  5. They said that I was suffering from a fever; then his fever lavishly draped

    my wasted bones in robes of tears.

  6. I lamented what he suffers, and all night my eye

    wept for him through bleeding lids.

  7. O Lord, let the burning anguish of my body alone

    complain of wasting sickness, and send him health.

Sol 5.6