Oh, is there any way to the damsels bright and fair

Oh, is there any way to the damsels bright and fair? And is there anyone who will show me their traces?
And can I halt at night beside the tents of the curving sand? And can I rest at noon in the shade of the arák trees?
The tongue of inward feeling spoke, informing me that she says, 'Wish for that which is attainable.'
My love for thee is whole, O thou end of my hopes, and because of that love my heart is sick.
Thou art exalted, a full moon rising over the heart, a moon that never sets after it hath risen.
May I be thy ransom, O thou who art glorious in beauty and pride! for thou hast no equal amongst the fair.
Thy gardens are wet with dew and thy roses are blooming, and thy beauty is passionately loved: it is welcome to all.
Thy flowers are smiling and thy boughs are fresh: wherever they bend, the winds bend towards them.
Thy grace is tempting and thy look piercing: armed with it the knight, affliction, rushes upon me.