I have nothing but my sorrow and I want nothing more. It has been, it still is, faithful to me.

Why should I begrudge it, since during the hours when my soul crushed the depths of my heart, it was seated there beside me?

O sorrow, I have ended, you see, by respecting you, because I am certain you will never leave me.

your beauty lies in the force of your being. You are like those who never left the sad fireside corner of my poor black heart.

O my sorrow, you are better than a well-beloved: because I know that on the day of my final agony, you will be there, lying in my sheets, O sorrow, so that you might once again attempt to enter my heart.