In light of sun or moon and stars,
Without my dear one’s lustrous eyes
This world is wholly dark to me.
At the same time he warns the unwary against reflecting over-much on female beauty—
Let not thy thoughts, O Wanderer,
Roam in that forest, woman’s form:
For there a robber ever lurks,
Ready to strike—the God of Love.
In another stanza the Indian Cupid appears as a fisherman, who, casting on the ocean of this world a hook called woman, quickly catches men as fishes eager for the bait of ruddy lips, and bakes them in the fire of love.
Strange are the contradictions in which the poet finds himself involved by loving a maiden—