1. O you who from gardens kept has brought me news,
For God's sake, tell and give good tidings, friend.

2. He said, she pined for you and said, I'm tried
By what I see wherever I my steps do bend.

3. Her glances follow me wherever I pass by,
Until with bashfulness her stares my eyes offend.

4. And if I stop so she might speak to me,
In that lone place, no word her shyness does unpen.

5. She still does this, and makes of it her wont,
Until with care for her my heart is tightly bound.