Do you still remember
The path that leads to Jile Bute[1]?
In the evening when one could smell the fragrant honey oozing forth
She said to me thus—
I have lost my embroidery needle
Please come and find it for me;
(Alas, how I searched the path far and near!)
Do you still remember
The path that leads to Jile Bute?
In the evening when something weighs heavily on my heart
I replied to her thus—
Is not the arrow that so deeply pierced my heart
The needle you are looking for?
(Oh, how she was touched and wept!)
