1. Many a dry branch was once lush with sap,
Quenched by water, thriving and wet.

2. Come near, and it will now give you to drink,
Quenching the thirsty with all it can yet.

3. The branch in its garden is fresh, alive,
When moistened by the dew in the air.

4. But if by hot winds it starts to be dried,
Its strength and its vitality paired.

5. So cried the heartsick poet in his lay:
"The branch by the wind was shaken and bent,

6. But you, my love, shook the yearning itself."