Could you tell him about the love in my heart,

When you see him next, my dearest breeze?

Whatever my heart speaks, you can

Whisper into his ears softly,

And I am sure, your tinkling bangles

Will laugh out loud, at my stupid words,

Gazing in the mirror of the placid river.

When the blue sky spread its peacock plumes,

A blossom starts smiling from the top of a tree;

My quivering desires became a ruby

In my heart yearning to hear his coquetry,

And to chatter my replies, garnished with love,

When I stand reticently near him,

And my desires fuming inside like a volcano;

When I flee away playfully without answering

Him, and mutter my reproaches for being late.

As I desire with passion to see him again,

And to close my eyes, lest I see his trembling

Lips seeking to close on mine lustfully,

I am covered with a sweet bashfulness

And turn numb, stupefied and shudder.

But my dear friend, don’t tell him those things.



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