O you whose radiance, beyond the veils, is our summer

Take us, like the summer, with a warm heart to our garden

O collyrium for the eye of the soul, where have you gone? Come!

So that the water of mercy may spring forth from the courtyard of our fire-place

So that the salt lands may become green, so that the graves may become gardens

So that the unripe grapes may become grapes, so that our bread may become baked

O sun of soul and heart, O sun ashamed of you

Finally, see how this water and clay have bound around our soul

The thorns have become rose gardens, many times from the love of your face

So that it casts a hundred thousand confessions in our faith

O form of eternal love, you have shown your beautiful face in the body

So that you may guide the soul towards the One from this prison of ours

Open joy in the smoke of sorrow, show us a day from the essence of night

A strange and wondrous day, O our light-scattering morning

You make a pearl from a bead, you tear the bile from the gallbladder

You make a destitute one a sultan, bravo, O our sultan

Where are the eyes worthy of you, so that they may reach to your dust?

Where is the ear that can bring intelligence to you, so that it may hear our proof?

When the heart becomes considered as a favor, in gratitude for that branch of sugar

The relish will cry out from the root of every tooth of ours

The sound of the drum came from the soul, so that the parts may come to the whole

Basil to basil, flower to flower, from the prison of our thorn-field