In the rolling green hills of the farmland,
Amongst sing-song birds there lives a maiden
As has never been seen by any man,
With such beauty is her person laden.
Her hair of the brilliant fire of suns
Does contrast with the Earth’s most peaceful green,
Painting red across the skies as she runs;
Blessing with passion every creature that has seen.
Her large eyes of so deep and piercing a blue
Bring the sky to tears of jealousy,
And freeze the hearts of not a few
Men who, once stricken, pursue her zealously.
Yet their obsession is all in vain,
Due to one dark-haired peasant
whom this Angel hath claimed.