If you knew that I adore you,
as the star loves the sky,
as the bees of Mysore
love the flower where honey is born,
you would come, at the hour when the Ganges
goes to the blue gulf to sleep,
you would come, and sit down, oh my angel,
under your emir's rosebushes!
  There, my sweet queen,
  in the serene night
  after a beautiful day,
  the revitalized flowers, 
  the beloved rivers,
  the fragrant nights,
  everything speaks of love.

 ... 

If you knew by what miracle
a sign of my hand can change
a poor girl one day
into a sultana the next,
you would believe, oh my angel,
that the blue god of the firmament
has descended onto our Ganges
bearing the name of your lover!
  There, my sweet queen, etc.