Oh, Apple of my eye, forbidden fruit, you know I'm starving and I'm thirsty, but the branches pull away.
Oh, rosy-red and taunting, flawless skin and flavour haunting, please I wonder now, for what sin do I pay?
Like a candle in the darkness and I like a moth to flame, do chase your sunny beams despite retreat.
Now, I fear my sun is setting and I run toward the horizon, but the quickness of your flee exceeds my feet.
Oh, locks of golden rays and ripened lips,
Why do you so deny my warm embrace?
My words do fill the sails of idle ships,
But cannot lift a feather, in your grace.