Day
after day he comes and goes away.
Go,
and give him a flower from my hair, my friend.
If
he asks who was it that sent it, I entreat you do not tell him my
name---for he only comes and goes away.
He
sits on the dust under the tree.
Spread
there a seat with flowers and leaves, my friend.
His
eyes are sad, and they bring sadness to my heart.
He
does not speak what he has in mind; he only comes and goes away.