O Lord, I wish I knew what my beloved desires, blocking my escape and taking my heart and peace.
O Lord, I wish I knew where he is leading me, and for what purpose he pulls my reins in every direction.
O Lord, I wish I knew why he acts so heartlessly, my kind king and patient beloved.
O Lord, I wish I knew if my smoke and cries, my pleas and warnings, ever reach my beloved.
O Lord, I wish I knew where this will ultimately lead, O Lord, this night of waiting has become so long.
O Lord, what is this turmoil of mine, all this concealment of mine, since you are both my singular and my multitude.
Your love is always in my silence and in my speech, before the vision of my eyes, my sustenance and my time.
Sometimes I call it prey, sometimes I call it spring, sometimes I name it sheep, sometimes my intoxication.
It is my disbelief and my faith, my far-seeing eye, it is mine and not mine, I cannot pass it by.
Patience and sleep have left me, tears and water have left me, O Lord, until when will it plunder all four of mine?
Where is the house of water and clay, where is the house of soul and heart, O Lord, my desire has become my city and my land.
This heart, exiled from the city, remains in dark clay, lamenting, "O God, where is my retinue and kin?"
O Lord, if I could reach my city and see the mercy of my king and all the city, my beloved.
The rough path I traveled, the heavy burden from my back, my patient beloved has come and taken my load.
My lion-catching gazelle, satisfied with my milk, the one whom I am his prey has become my prey.
The dark-faced night is not a match or companion for my day, the heartless autumn is not in pursuit of my new spring.
You never remain silent, until when will you beat this drum? Oh, you have torn the veil, O my veil-keeping lips.