O ancient temple, there hath risen for you a light that gleams in our hearts.
I complain to thee of the deserts which I crossed, where I let my tears
   flow unchecked,
Taking no joy in rest at dawn or dusk, continuing from morn to morn and
   passing from eve to eve.
Truly, the camels, even if they suffer from footsoreness, journey by night and
   make haste in their journey.
These beasts of burden carried us to you with eager desire, though they did
   not hope to attain thereby.
They traversed wildernesses and wellnigh rainless lands, impelled by passion,
   but they did not therefore complain of fatigue.
They did not complain of the anguish of love, and 'tis I who complain of
   fatigue. Indeed, I have claimed something absurd.