O ancient temple

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 die; not complain of the anguish of love, and ’tis I who complain of fatigue. Indeed, I have claimed something absurd.