For God's sake, O night, heed not my lamentation,For oft I have yearned for one lost to separation;
For God's sake, tell me — have thine eyes opened wideUpon a wounded soul that longed for healing's tide?
I complain to myself of cares that keep me wakeful,Whilst people in their night are lost in joy and playful;
This one converses with a beauty all alone,With flute and pipe and cups of wine o'erthrown;
Free from all sorrow — never would complain to her,Save longing spoken openly without demur;
And that one sleeps, wrapped in his coverlet — you'd deemHim of the morning, pledged to dawn's bright gleam;
Whilst thou, O night, dost watch o'er me alone,How long the night for one deprived, O friend well-known;
I complain to God of one forever wakeful,Would he were like the rest, not ever watchful.
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