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Go to the window, lovely captive, to see
The knight who arrived at your gate
Comes beaten from the dusty roads of passion
Dying of missing your eyes
Your kiss and the taste of your mate

(Galloping wide, I cut roads to see you
On my horse only thinking of wanting you
Herding troop rounds up the announcement
On my horse, the loneliness resurfaces)

Along the paths, I gathered flowers to give you
And if your father allows me your hand
My sweet girlfriend from the countryside
I run to meet your eyes
Your kiss and the taste of your mate