Kiss upon my lover's nose:
It is for you the blossom grows.
Notice now it fans itself
Beyond the bough and hither flows.

Or else the scents came forth aroused
Not by those lips but by their boughs
Who shook and left them to the lake
With whose waters we are daily doused.

But could we shake the scent from trees
And drink the petals' milk as bees,
We might not lead our lips astray
And plant wet kisses where we please.