S he weepeth sore in the night, And her tear on her cheeks, There is no comforter for her out of all her lovers, All her friends dealt treacherously by her, They have been to her for enemies.
Por las noches, amargas lágrimas corren por sus mejillas. Ni uno solo de sus amantes viene a consolarla. Sus amigos le fallaron; ¡se volvieron sus enemigos!
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