My affairs, like the beloved’s curls, are tangled and awry,
My back, like her arched brow, is bent and complies.
Sorrow sipped a drink from my bleeding heart and said,
"This is the joy for one who, in this world, thrives instead."
Is it only my heart that’s ensnared in grief’s domain,
Or are joyous hearts in this era truly rare to attain?
In the way my heart gives every sorrow its due,
The justice of love's kingdom is undeniably true.
Do you know what the thought of your face whispered to my eyes?
“What place is this that is wet with tears, as the days go by?”
If you wish to know my state as clear as the day,
Ask the dark night, for it too holds my secrets and sway.
Oh, if only I stood between my heart and my beloved,
Bound as closely as I am to this grief that I’ve uncovered.