My love doth weep,
When it stretches across the oceans
Fatigues and swims too deep,
And falls to steep hatred.

My love doth weep,
When she realises that only
One half of the heart is complete
And the sweet fruits have fallen.

My love doth weep,
Somewhere in the Sahel
Water is scarce for moving on,
And all the oases have dried and gone.