The nightingale sang on the stem of the
double jasmine:O anemones
I intend to find my beloved
Between the jasmine and the basil
My heart fell sick, what a broken promise
I need a doctor to cure me
No, a doctor is of no use to me
The kiss of my beloved can cure me.
The beggar came to the door
The beautiful one said God gives
”he said”: But by God I am no beggar
Please by God give me a kiss.
There were six of us by the spring
With the beloved we became seven
She asked for a kiss, I did not give
I said it is a sin on Friday