I
In sweet midspring --
not in May, a little earlier --
as the sunlight beamed down,
a maid of elegant features
stood under a leafy branch
making music with a flute.

II
I came to that spot, as fate would have it.
There is no nymph of such beauty
as could match the sole of her foot.
As she saw me hurrying toward her,
she fled with her bleating flock,
shaken with fear.

III
With a cry she ran toward the sheepfold.
Following her, I pleaded, "Don't shout!
you need fear no harm."
She rejected my pleas and the necklace
I showed her she held to be cheap, 
saying.

IV
"I don't want your gift," she said,
"because you are full of guile"
and with these words defended herself with her crook.
I grabbed her and threw her to the ground. 
There was no more flawless woman under heaven
so poorly dressed!

V
She took it very badly
but for me it was pleasant and sweet.
"What have you done," she said, "you evil man?
Curses on you! All the same, goodbye!
Make sure you don't say a word to anyone,
so that I come to no harm at home!

VI
If my father finds out about it,
or Martin, my elder brother,
it will be a black day for me;
or if my mother should come to know of it --
she is four times worse than a snake --
I'll be beaten with rods!"

(Traill, Carmina Burana)