The embers of my ache die. Come. I need to pass my night.
Prolong the hold of the dousing grief. Ease the ritual of the night.

Wailing in separation is a custom of the waning past.
Re-enact this custom, friends. Spur the flow of the leaden night.

You are the light that brings life to the chambers of my eyes and heart.
Tonight I need your marvel, friend! Come, release me from this night.

The beloved ever hurts with an indifferent unkindness.
Yet her cruel companionship might just suffice to pass this night.

This benumbing sadness is choking the breath in our chests.
Create some winds of rumors, friends; shift the burden of this night.

I have no vocation, while emptiness occupies you.
Friends! Do not leave the company. Let us stay and pass the night.

The evening yet is nascent; why did you escort our friend back home?
Call him back. We need the whole gathering to drown this heavy night.