What do I see?

Why do I see the preacher sitting on the pulpit, among the nobles, telling me his feelings?

He touched the heart that felt for me,

And touched a sensitive chord within me?

Why do these tears flow from my eyes?

They fill me with sadness and weeping that increases and decreases?

Why has my deception been exposed, so that whenever I come,

he hides all my clothes from my face?

Why is your chest, my homeland, no longer my homeland,

while others in my homeland delight in it and drink from it?

Why has the world darkened in its emptiness,

while others see it as a torch of light?

Has sadness become longing in my eyes?

Are you fighting your breath, my neighbor, or mine?

And on my wedding day to a lover whom death has taken from me, and whom my senses have taken away, my feelings overflow?

Why do I see the preacher attacking my soul?

From his pulpit, Satan began to whisper secrets to me?