1. My heart's passion suits frivolity,
And in his rosy cheek, staring suits.

2. My love for him is old, though fresh his youth,
And up the ages he ascends by slow degrees.

3. I came impassioned to his camp and those
Who curve on the hung litter mocked my madness.

4. For I was loyal to the white-clad throng,
While unto him and to the murky tribe they clung.

5. I kept the right path firmly, straightly steered,
While they the winding road of error followed.

6. In him is my repose; from him no power can move me,
And my straight path to truth allows no egress.

7. Small wonder that one like him bears fruits of glory,
While unto time he yields harvest, and age on age.

8. The flashing of his cheeks gives light to them
Who by the spirit's path ascend unto his heights.