1. O friend, I am not one to complain of love’s anguish,
As long as souls are clad in human flesh.

2. Why should I blame the languid, drowsy eyes,
When wholesome living you have all forsworn?

3. My soul I sacrifice for one whose hair is night itself,
His brow a lamp that makes my darkness glow.

4. In his cheek blooms my rose, his temples wear
My myrtle wreath, his mouth my apples sweet.

5. Not from his cup, but from his honeyed lips
My fevered love has drunk deep draughts of joy.

6. By the soft pearls his lips enclose,
By the sweet fruits his kiss reveals,

7. By the soft down that clothes his cheek and throat,
I swear his loveliness shall never fail!