"Where, cruel one, where go you, where?; hold back,
hold back your swiftly fleeting steps, so long
as of my hearfelt pain the long lament
to open this my deepest vein begins;

hear the voice filled with a thousand sighs
and with the sad song of my suffering;
you can't be cruel and harsh to such extent
that my grief doesn't move you to chagrin;

turn your light upon me, turn your eyes,
before darkness engulfs me in its mist,"
I said in sleep, or in illusions lost.

I woke up, found myself alone, 'midst thorns,
and not by light but by black clouds hemmed in,
and in a flood of burning tears transformed.