O Love,
I don't want you
Like the headlines in the newspapers!

Come to me
Like the drifting snow in December,
And like butterflies on blushing flowers!

Sing to me
The delight of nightingales
Or the joys of couple of dancing doves!

Fly away
If you intend
To drink me the morbid music of owls!

I do beseech thee, O Love,
See through the taste of my *****
For you have to stay here in harmony!