1. She strolled gracefully in the meadows,
Like a queen who toured the strongholds of her realm.

2. A beauty, made more lovely by charm,
So the birds in her glades sing her name.

3. Beauty is most perfect in a maiden
In the flower of youth, and the fullness of her prime.

4. She was veiled in green silken robes,
Revealing, in their folds, a rose on her bosom.

5. She swayed in a gown of shimmering silk,
A branch whose body’s freshness cannot match its own.

6. When she passed by a flower as she walked,
She would take its skirt and kiss it.

7. Or she would pass a soft, sweet branch,
Which bent its garment to embrace her.

8. Eyes feast on her, then hide her away
In thoughts, too shy to openly profess their desire,

9. Like bees that swarmed around a blossom, then stung it,
Sipping from it what they sipped against its will.

10. Until modesty cooled her heated brow
With dew, quenching the fires of her resolve,

11. She sat facing her mother, as though
The two images were of one portrait.

12. When suddenly a tempest roared by,
In raging winds and murky clouds,

13. And the dusty haze shook, till it reached
The soft meadows, the stars’ rising place.

14. The tresses of the maiden scattered, clouds
That veiled the rising of her star from sight.

15. Perplexed she struggled, without her mirror,
To restore the braids the winds undid.

16. She drew near her mother, and peered
Into her eyes, dispelling the clouds of worry.

17. For when a girl cannot find her mirror,
She looks into her mother’s eyes instead.