A tomboy, she’s curly and brisk,
A bright butterfly as in summer.
The meaningless words from her lips
Are full of a genuine glamour.

You can be her king for a day,
She can’t bear the...Read more

A tomboy, she’s curly and brisk,
A bright butterfly as in summer.
The meaningless words from her lips
Are full of a genuine glamour.

You can be her king for a day,
She can’t bear the shackles of habits.
She’ll slip out at once as a snake,
Take wing and be off as a parrot.

The innocent brow of hers
Conceals now joy now sorrow.
Her eyes are the bright sky ’bove earth,
Her soul’s dark like the sea water!

Now all in her breathes the truth,
Now she’s a deceitful pretender!
You can’t understand her in sooth,
She can’t help being high in your favour.

1840

translation by Andrew Alexandre Owie

Х Close