What is there besides Him that can snatch all of us from death?

I would scatter a hundred lives upon Him and say, 'Bravo! Welcome!'

I would dance towards the heavens, from there I would go towards the Beyond-How

You have taken away my patience and composure, O host, come sooner!

You take away the stars from the moon, you take them away in pieces

Sometimes you take away the suckling infant, sometimes you drag the wet nurse

I have a heart like the world, so that it bears the heavy mountain

Who am I, that I should bear, and when shall I bear this straw-house, and woe to me!

Even if my hair became white like milk from the longing for death and became old

I am flour, I am not wheat, when I have come to the mill

Wheat goes into the mill because it was born from the ear of grain

The offspring is important, not the ear of grain; why should I be in the mill?

No, no, the moonlight also falls into the mill from a loophole

From there it goes towards the moon, not in the baker's shop

If I were paired with my intellect, I would have said what is to be said

Be silent, so that the wind does not hear this story