1. My book has come to you, carried on the eyes,
So hasten to a refuge, safe from the eyes.

2. In it is a band of lovers, a party of folk
Whose talk is like the wind between the meadows.

3. Soar on the wings of resolve to their abode,
But beware the lower slopes and roving eyes.

4. They traveled the horizons and gazed afar,
And touched boughs that in their tenderness bent over.

5. So whoever hopes to trap the wild doves in their nests,
Should expect nothing less than a grip of falcons.