1. Three who never gathered, but for one like you—
The poet, how strange his role!

2. A rose on a branch of narcissus,
Jasmine too—all are strangers.

3. So this one's red, that one's yellow, that one's white;
The signs of their affair seem odd indeed.

4. As if this one's a lover, that one's the beloved,
And that one there is the spy.