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.
我的歌曲把她的裝飾卸掉。
她沒有了衣飾的驕奢。
裝飾會成為我們合一之玷;
它們會橫阻在我們之間,
它們叮當的聲音會淹沒你的細語。
我的詩人的虛榮心,在你的容光中羞死。
啊,詩圣,我已經拜倒在你的腳前。
只讓我的生命簡單正直像一支葦笛,讓你來吹出音樂。