When my beloved comes

When my beloved comes

to see his love in grief,

beautiful flowers will cover

the sunburnt shore.

But I do not see him,

alas, my beloved does not come.

When he tells the breezes

of his beloved and his grief,

gentle birds, then he will teach you

a sweeter song.

However, I do not hear him. Who hears him?

Oh, my beloved has fallen silent.

Merciful echo, that at this point

has already exhausted my tears,

return to him

and he will gently ask you for his bride.

Hush, now he's calling me, hush! Alas!

No, he is not calling me, o God, he is not there.