That will do, my pretty sage. Please, no more.
With such trifles pure affection don't mar.
You'd not strike a fellow traveller, would you?
You and I - our road runs far, very far.

I am loyal to you with all my heart,
I'll be true to you till dust turns to dust.
Do you want to make me bitter and sore
When I see you look at me with distrust?

Since I know that I've committed no crime,
Just the thought of trial and sentence seems
unfair:
All your dreadful charges don't mean a thing,
So my dear, my biased judge, please forebear!

Translated by Lydia Kmetyuk