My Beloved! I sough, to the blue poison of your loving fondling,
While kept, remembering amidst the prison of this terrible reflection.
Ah! may it be your heart, which has suffered so much from affection,
Maybe I am afraid, because ravaged by grief I will be, still pondering.
My Beloved, and what are you guilty of, that your eyes’ hollow things
Are so burning, and that your lips curl and laugh so nicely?
You trusted too much in my virtue, too much in your own vitality,
However the Creator poured too much fire into our beings.
We fought many unending days and weeks earnestly,
Young, always alone, yet, always hand in hand,
And we were both worthy of each other for eternity.
Now, ah! I will leave and rain tears upon the altars’ stand,
I will not beg for forgiveness, for my crimes in enmity,
Only, let the Creator not punish me with your grief damned.