I ask of the Keepers of Vines:
My loved One, most sweet, Where is He?
I rush through the Woods and the Fields,
And ask the Stag fleet: Where is He?
At Night when in Darkness He hides,
In Fear I repeat: Where is He?
I ask of the Sun and the Moon,
And Stars in retreat: Where is He?
He is not with me. Who has seen
The Path of His Feet? Where is He?