O friends,

O friends, I am mad

with love, and no one sees.

My mattress is a sword-point,

how can I sleep

when the bed of my Beloved

is spread open elsewhere?

Only those who have felt the knife

can understand the wound,

only the jeweler

knows the nature of the Jewel.

I have lost it,

and though anguish takes me door to door

no doctor answers.

Mira calls her Lord: O Dark One,

Only You can heal this pain.