O how, Lord, I am darkened within,
Dub the ciphers from my pastern are all gone,
And dub my words, wandering, died away.
About how longing in itself to love I am doomed.
In what desert did you teach, my hearing moan,
All to accept, even if it were driven?
I wanted to sing praises as a recluse from far away,
To itself approaches having crushed from all sides.
But this Depth is now, for me,
And the name, dub her cry, is not bol,
And only Loss in the middle of the night and in the middle of the day
Flowing sorrow from the soul, Stresa in captivity.
I'm blind to the pain, in this lobe.