Waving this handkerchief of love
My live ended, alas if you would know of my conditions
No hand touched mine but yours
Didn't see or known other hands than yours
Gazing from the window, she is waving arrogantly
Whereas I'm in winter, oh, she is in prevailing summers
Her hair is combed, her lips are colored
If you don't take me, by jove, I'll suffer
Waving this handkerchief of love
My live ended, alas if you would know of my conditions
No hand touched mine but yours
Didn't see* or known other hands than yours
Infront of your house, I laid out the table of my love
Infront of your door, I laid the rose-patterned bundle of my mother*
If she would now, she would ground me, my fate would be stigmatized
If not by the hands of my mom, By jove, you will be the one who kills me