1. I kept silent, my people, for a month and vanished, yet

    No inquiry came from you, nor any word of me among you.

  2. My illness has left me in a world apart from yours;

    My night is sorrow, and my whole day is tedium.

  3. And I spent the night secluded from you—how far I am

    From the crowned one! I beseech him and offer my excuses.

  4. I wish to bear my share of his entrusted duty,

    But beneath it my resolve bends and breaks.

  5. The land surges with festivals, yet

    At the festivals I have neither hearing nor sight.

  6. And had I commanded my hand and mouth on his day,

    He would have had from me brilliant, choice verses.

  7. And I do not say—while there is hope of my recovery tomorrow—

    “Yesterday’s memory and its trace are enough of life for me.”

  8. And I have patiently borne affliction for an allotted span,

    And I do not know what fate will bring.

Sol 6.1