Even if the sigh at dawn had no effect in love, it would not have mattered if only the weeping of the night had produced some impact.

In classical poetry, a lover's sigh at dawn is believed to hold divine power, capable of softening even the stoniest heart. Here, the poet sighs in quiet desperation: since even that sacred dawn plea bore no fruit, he wished that at least his silent, nocturnal weeping had left an impression. It is a tender portrait of helplessness, where every plea has failed and only the quiet ache of unrequited longing remains.