XII: O zephyr of the morn! draw near unto…

O zephyr of the morn! draw near unto the parterre;
For the flowers are overjoyed, in expectation of blooming.

What doth the hermit know, as to what thing love is?
Wherefore speakest thou to the owl, the garden concerning?

Though the monks perform their devotions five times a day,
I am ever prostrate, in devotion, unto the Giver of good.

As much as I behold thee, I do not become satiated,
Notwithstanding I gaze so intently upon thy face.

Again, indeed, place thou a scar on the anemone's heart,
When thou roamest in the garden, so joyous and gay.

Anger and kindness I perceive between thine eyebrows:
The tablet of thy forehead thou hast placed to be perused.

Sometimes, thou raisest strife; at others, showest kindness--
Simple hearted that I am, at such skill, I grow amazed.

If thou hast set thine heart upon my death, I too, say,
That thy tyranny hath brought me to death's door nigh.