O fair young man, who art thee?
Thou hast taken my heart away,
In the grief of waiting for you I sway,
But yet thou maketh me feel so free!
Thou didst encounter me first on the island of Ithaca,
I had known thy exploits and deeds,
Serving the Emperor’s army, which thou leads,
And we met again near the Strait of Malacca.
Thou didst not profess thy love for me,
Though I had love for you deep inside me,
Yonder you come like you are the Master of the Seas,
Your golden hair being blown by the zephyr-like breeze,
With your hazel eyes full of weary promise,
Do you love me, my lovely Adonis?