The falcon

A falcon lifts up into the sky,

his wings swaying proudly and broadly;

he soars upward, and then turns widely right

until he sees Vesta's Gate.

At the gate a maiden sits,

washing her white face:

the very snow on the mountain does not gleam

as her white neck glistens.

As she washes and as she sits,

she lifts her black eyebrows;

and you never saw a night star

that blazed as her black eyes do.

The falcon speaks from above:

"O you wondrously fair maiden!

Do not wash your cheeks

so that they glitter like snow!

"Do not lift your fine eyebrows

so that your eyes blaze!

Cover your white neck,

so that my heart will not break!"