If You had to go and leave me,
why did You come to my hut in the first place?

Why did You allow
the flower bud of my hope
to whither away untimely?

Alas, had they heard of Your expected arrival,
the shefali flower would have remained awake,
the cuckoo would have sung in the spring,
the moon would have spread its light.

By ignoring all,
You broke the strings of my lyre.
Alas, You went away.
Autumn and winter continue to weep.

The dew wet niip tree fades,
the white and flowering tall grass turns black.
You went away,
trampling underfoot all the sweetness of my mind.