But of a strange world with the strange people,
For a son marries without any info to the parents.
The forest devours more lives than the sword,
But upon the wings of love i do fly with my mind;
And like the muse of the moose until the morning light.
The bleating of heep and the lowing of oxen,
You came only yesterday and you want my love;
And like one hundred cakes of figs in the valley of salt.
I do have sandals on my feet and a belt around my waist,
But in the morning light of the day i will pray;
For i am like a reed shaking in the water,
Oh that you could hear my voice at last!
For a son arries secretly without any info to the parents,
And this story is like the cedar trees from Lebanon.