We find no peace day or night at the hands of love; the day passes in weeping and lamenting, and the night in loud wailing.

In this couplet, the poet portrays love not as a tender comfort, but as an unrelenting storm that grants no rest. The day is consumed by quiet weeping and sighs of despair, while the solitude of the night magnifies that inner agony into wild, desperate cries. It captures the exhausting reality of heartbreak, where time constantly moves, yet every single hour carries its own form of grief.