No sleep, and the breath of the wind from the valley has subsided

Remember me and pass on the goodness of the time gone by

O you whose glances have made my soul a target

O moon whose words have bestowed honor upon my heart

Make me yearn, make me taste, reach me, make me laugh

Make me poor, make me thankful, O possessor of generosity and highness

When he sings, he pleases me, and when he appears, he makes me absent

And when he is far, he makes me old, may the day of meeting never cease

How noble is my exalted beloved, who has become a hunter aiming at prey

Until he shot arrows in which there is my sickness and cure

O moon of the night travelers, a crown upon the partings

He shone from the east, changing my night into morning

A triumphant beauty shone, opening the drowsiness from it

O my trust, do not weaken, and hasten to seize the opportunity

O my sight, connect with what the eyes have closed from seeing

Anger him, and he will conceal himself, returning to what is not seen

Be sick, approaching, obeying, agitated

Moving, estranged, like a meteor in the sky

O you who see and do not see, sleep has gone from the noble eye

My heart is a lover of the night journey, so arise for what is beyond