NOTE: 38

32.

Spring has come, [yet] it has snowed, Vay, le, le, vay, le, le, vay, le, le, le, le! My beloved has grown cold toward me. Ah, may it wither—alas!—ah, the tongue of this wicked person! The wind blows cold, cold, It sears my liver and lungs. Beloved, you have left me unsatisfied in my longing— You have sundered your love from me.

32.

I was coming down from the mountain, You opened the door; You put your hand to your bosom, You sighed, [and] wept. Alas, alas, alas, I am burning, Alas, alas, alas, I am melting, I am melting, I am burning.