1. By my father taken in his prime,
Whose glances borrow from the eyes of fawns their charm,

2. Whose face would shame the moon should it appear,
Whose swaying form puts boughs of ban to shame when he walks by,

3. Ripely curved by the wine of youth,
With glances inebriating though no wine they've tasted,

4. Sociable with others, unlike me, so when
My eyes have found in him a friend, to all else they’re closed.

5. O you who’ve purposelessly turned from me,
Who has maligned me, would that I knew!

6. I will probingly unveil my heart, perhaps
The wretched will accept this impassioned plea.