He:

In the golden carnival
of the
morning light when
the distant hills
           breathed
a low
sigh of wind, the
stray birds
glided o'er the desolate
shore beating upon
their
delicate wings in the
silent air, and took
shower
in the whirl of the
            seatide.
As I was leading my
lonely
voyage, sailing across
the
vibrant sea end, singing
to the gentle flute of
hollow
reed so bravely, ah, far
in the ancient land
among
the cherry wood trees, I
          stumbled
upon
the maid, clad in the
golden
garb of the fair lotus
blossom,
stretching her arms and
limbs open in air, and
picking
up the withered leaves
in hands, fallen on
the path. I
                 called
upon
her in the wind of the
flute's
song—
but lo, she heard me not.
She went on, gliding
far like a cloud,
and my
sight followed her form.
Hark, O fair thou, was it
so
             thee—
whose
rhododendron-like
form
surged into the depths
of my
eyes in that very glad
morning
hours of the early day?

She:

The eternal fount of
breath
that sighs in the
wind of song's
         delight,
I know
'tis thine, my dear
shepherd boy! I tell
thee, as fair gleam
of beauty
cuts through the deep
veil of eyes,
the heart weeps deep
within its shroud
in
desperate longing.
In this beautiful
wake
          of Autumn
day, I
know why thy eyes
aglow like a flower
of wonder. It is thus
that thy heart is
woven into the
chains
of the beauty, that
thou art
longing for her. Ah,
my
lips speak
as brave as gentle
flute,
and
breathes as soft as
dawn's first wind. As
fair
paddy lush awoke
           when the
first
glimmer of the morning
light aflashed
across the
sky with the flame of
illumination, I chased
the road that escapes
through the
             deep
confine
of the cherry wood
trees. In the
depth of my lonely
grace,
I found the solace
nailed deep within
the
root of my own
heart,
bearing the silence
of
               joy like
the moon.
I moved forth chasing
the wandering
beams
of light and while,
the wind whispered
thy name to my
ears.
I turnt myself about—
and lo, far amid the
            wonder
of
the distant sea haze, I
saw the
man gliding as free
as waves. I knew 'twas
whom I did know.
I shot the arrow of
words from the bow of
my lips—
but alas, they melted
in the chaos of the
             sea
waves.
Wonderest thou
not, who that by-passer
was? O, my dear
shepherd boy,
speak
to me, wasn't I thus
who held thy gaze
with the
dart of my own grace?