Seeking pleasure in smoke is foolish,
But there is pleasure in the taste of your lips,
So I will put up with the smoke.
There is pleasure in finding myself enveloped by your eyes
Where I am free to dance like a wild ape in the forest.
I know you, my love.
You are that one which gives the strawberry
From your breast.
You are that one which knows my love
And keeps the secret hidden away
In the garden of your pleasure.
You ask for nothing, but oh, how I wish to give!
When I tell you of the dark place hidden in my soul,
You fill it with light
With a touch.
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