What treasure greater than a friend
Who close to us hath grown?
Blind fate no bitt’rer lot can send
Than bid us walk alone.
For solitude doth cause a dearth
Of fruitful, blessed thought,
The wise would pray to leave this earth,
If none their friendship sought.
Yet sad though loneliness may be,
That friendship surely shun
That feigns to love, and inwardly
Betrays affections won.Santob de Carrion (1290 - 1369) Spain
Translated by Joseph Friedlander
Source: The Standard Book of Jewish Verse. Joseph Friedlander, comp. Dodd, Mead and Company, 1917
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