Anybody who cannot,

Love Daphne,

Cannot love me.

Anybody who loves just Spring,

Cannot claim love for the One,

Who made all the seasons.

Nor can one love just the gardener,

And not his love for a special flower.

So I say with all my heart:

Thank you once more,

To my guardian angel.

Lofty and majestic she is,

A rare soul in this savage

And lustful, greedy, selfish age.

Aye, many thanks,

For stretching out her loving arms,

And healing embrace,

For my longing soul.

She loves Daphne,

And I love her,

For being so magnanimous,

Touch wood.

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