Nothing Is Left

I have no wish left to ask of my love, for I can no longer endure being needlessly ignored. See how fate offers me the cup of joy only now, when the glass has fallen and no wine remains. On the road of love my heart was so battered against the thorns that not a single thorn is left in the whole wilderness. If I weep at the edge of the meadow, it is a place for weeping, for the flower I came to admire is gone. Tell the heavens to stop trying to shatter my glass, for not a single stone is left in the whole wilderness. The door to happiness is shut on me because grief has crowded my heart so tightly that no room is left. How long, healer, will you wear yourself out trying to cure me, when I no longer have any hope of being healed?