English
Number 4
When I try to make friends even with the dogs at her door,
my rival, out of envy, plants talk of separation between us.
That careless flirt is leaving the garden, and I'm afraid
she will renew her vow of faithlessness with some fresh flower.
It isn't mercy that brings her to my side; she comes
because she wants me weeping when she speaks the word goodbye.
If for one night that moon-faced one lights up my gathering,
the sun itself would come begging brightness from my lamp.
May the one trapped in your snare, who longs to break free,
never come to know the strange delight of captivity.
Doctor, you expect human kindness from people; what is this,
that you seek the ways of friendship from total strangers?