I no longer have any longing for the dawn of my homeland; O evening of exile, this hour of yours has become strangely pleasant to me.

This couplet captures the bittersweet paradox of exile, where longing and loneliness eventually transform into an intimate sanctuary. The poet contrasts the bright, hopeful dawn of the homeland with the shadowy twilight of a foreign land, discovering an unexpected peace in alienation. It is the poignant confession of someone who has surrendered so deeply to heartbreak and solitude that the pain itself has begun to feel comforting.