1. A tormenting passion for you has made its home within my heart;

    Its speckled serpents breathe venom in the heart’s very core.

  2. To remain steadfast under such love is impossible;

    One such as I cannot endure a love like this.

  3. I grew drunk, though I never stretched out my hand for wine;

    One such as I cannot endure a love like this.

  4. I turned the reins of love toward you, seeking your favor,

    While sorrow’s fire is kindled among my ribs.

  5. Love’s reward—if the beloved would grant the joy—would be one moment

    In whose shade he speaks to me, and I speak to him.

  6. My wealth and rank in love are ardor and tears;

    In either state my heart is lost, buried in the dust.

  7. The heavy burden of sorrow seems light to me for his sake;

    Here I am, clinging to him amid my ardor.

  8. You notched my heart with separation, and I mended it

    With patience, whereby I bind fast what you unravel.

  9. May I be bereft of my heart if it grieves at sorrow,

    Knowing as it does that calamities must come to pass.

  10. Your praise is my sweet basil, and your remembrance my repose;

    Your love is my consolation until the day I am raised.

Sol 6.1