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.