The songs you sing are impeccable pearls of sound,
Your spoken verses are roses fine and sweet.
How copious nature is about your feet,
To spread jewels and flowers both around

Flushing – the stream of petal beauty pours,
Subtly the white threads drop down and sheen.
Sing me a song, for I would pearls were mine.
Oh! Speak to me, my love, I crave a rose.