7

My song has put off her adornments. She has no pride of dress and decoration. Ornaments would mar our union; they would come between thee and me;their jingling would drown thy whispers.

My poet's vanity dies in shame before thy sight. O master poet, I have sat down at thy feet. Only let me make my life simple and straight, like a flute of reed for thee to fill with music.

我的歌曲已卸去她的妆饰。她不再为衣饰感到骄傲。妆饰会阻碍我们的融合；它们会横阻在你我之间，它们叮铃铃的响声会淹没你的低语。

我诗人的虚荣在你面前羞惭地退去。啊，诗者之师，我已坐在你的脚前。就让我把生命变得单纯而正直，像一支芦笛，用你的音乐来充满。