Sleep, fair lady, sleep
The floor will be good to you
No need to wax sorrowful anymore
The temple stone is cold on your cheek, but not on your heart
At the height of your gloom and despair
No beacon of light shall appear
No promises shall I give to you
Only a contrived sigh
I am no pleaser, no compassionate misery
So sleep, fair lady, sleep
The floor will get you through
The moon and the stars will be there instead
I am no companion for you
The wind( if only it were gentle)
Will echo your laments through and through
I cannot be there for you