Let my love be measured by giving and not by gain
For if gain I sought this life lived would be in vain.
Love then, yourself to lose, I say again and again
For the giver can only give as clouds disperse in rain.
Filled and full as a teardrop on a maiden cheek without stain
For heaving breasts heave, but to give all, all to her swain.
The blushing bride can blush no more, wheat becomes floured grain
For sweetness of the sugar comes from crushéd giving of the cane.
Let my love be measured by giving and not by gain
For flowers too its fragrance give, let me sing forever this refrain.
IFSU
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