1. I reproach her, though reproach is of love's nature,
In my eyes there is anger, in my heart there is love.

2. I let her hear what wounds the ear by its words,
So she accepts its meaning and my heart intercedes for me.

3. My greeting to her is a smile then a kiss,
Just so fresh dew weeps onto the flowers.

4. With light and breeze my soul visits her,
And in her soul are flowers, water, and grass.

5. She reaps what bees reap in the meadow,
For poetry is but the honey stored by passion.