Wash your feet with perfume,
O joyful dove of the forest,
For the thyme has blossomed,
And hidden its fragrance in a magical flask
Guarded on the trunk of an almond tree.
Bring me a handful of your beauty
That I may conquer nature with it,
And trample the meadows.
Bring me a strand of your hair,
That I may sew with it a dress
At whose hem the roses will commit suicide!
**
