The moon spits fire,
Lotuses droop
And loaded with fragrance
Mingle in sad love.

Kokila, bird of spring,
Why do you torture?

Why do you sing
Your love-provoking song?

My lover is not here
And yet the god of love
Schemes on and on.
You do not know the meaning of ‘tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow’ is my tomorrow
And water
Escapes the dam of youth.

You are in love,
So is your lover,
And your two banks
Are brimming with the flood.

My lover left and I would die
Than wait still longer
For his loved return.

The fragrance of flowers
Enters the city,
Bees sing,
The moon and night enchant,
Yet all are enemies.