Ian Scott
Jane Kis Tarha
Tell me, what joy is there in drinking wine?
Intoxicated by your love, I weep and pine
Do not, for my sake, change your way
Rather, by leaving your side, I will change mine
Whether this fire of love dies or lives
Moth like, my fate, towards the deadly flame inclines
The more your touch smooths out my tangled hair
The more the tresses of my life become entwined