1111.

O flower of the sensitive plant! than thee

More tender's the maiden beloved by me.

1112.

You deemed, as you saw the flowers, her eyes were as flowers, my soul,

That many may see; it was surely some folly that over you stole!

1113.

As tender shoot her frame; teeth, pearls; around her odours blend;

Darts are the eyes of her whose shoulders like the bambu bend.

1114.

The lotus, seeing her, with head demiss, the ground would eye,

And say, 'With eyes of her, rich gems who wears, we cannot vie.'

1115.

The flowers of the sensitive plant as a girdle around her she placed;

The stems she forgot to nip off; they'll weigh down the delicate waist.

1116.

The stars perplexed are rushing wildly from their spheres;

For like another moon this maiden's face appears.

1117.

In moon, that waxing waning shines, as spots appear,

Are any spots discerned in face of maiden here?

1118.

Farewell, O moon! If that thine orb could shine

Bright as her face, thou shouldst be love of mine.

1119.

If as her face, whose eyes are flowers, thou wouldst have charms for me,

Shine for my eyes alone, O moon, shine not for all to see!

1120.

The flower of the sensitive plant, and the down on the swan's white breast,

As the thorn are harsh, by the delicate feet of this maiden pressed.