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Illanna's songs come faintly to me
over the hills and highland passes,
up narrow vallies from the salted sea,
twisting through conifers and pines
that scent them with their resins and musks.
But though they are plaintive, beautiful and true
I barely hear them, my mind and heart pre-occupied still
with one who is so far away,
beyond the forests and hills
beyond the high passes and maybe even the sea
- a daughter of Illanna herself,
who shares her wayward moods...

Maiden of mist and glancing sunlight
upon earthbound stone and water,
you have stolen my heart and carried it away
- where have you abandoned or discarded it?
It was a young and unspoilt heart
and though it could be troublesome at times
it was mine
and reasonably content for the most part
in its appointed place within my breast.
Now I do not know where it is
and my stricken thoughts,
separated from it,
move this way and that
seeking it without success.

Illanna, Innanna, is that a song of her you are singing now?
My mind and ears have become so attuned to songs of estrangement
I hear the melodies of separation everywhere.
I look at ordinary folk askance
as creatures of some other, long-passed world
and they return my glowering stare
with equal disfavour or disinterest!
Is there no star of forgetfullness
that might arise in the Heavens this evening
and steep me in its amnesiac rays;
no new and outre moon to bathe me in the soft
and soothing emanations of oblivion?

Sunlight and birdsong are wearisome,
the happiness of others is galling to my mind and senses,
awakening only memories of joys that I once knew.
All cheerful things are passing and false:
only sorrow is true.