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?