What a blessing: night and we are alone!
The river is like a mirror and the whole star glitters;
And then...throw your head and look:
What depth and purity above us!


Oh, call me crazy! Give
what you want; at that moment I am weakening
in my mind and in my heart I feel such a surge of love,
That I can’t be silent, I won’t, I don’t know how!


I'm sick, I'm in love but tormented and loving---
Oh, listen! Understand!---I do not hide passion,
And I want to say that I love you---
You, I alone love you and wish you!


No, I have not changed. To a deep old age
I am the same devotee, I am a slave to your love,
And the old poison of chains, rejoicing and cruel,
Still burns in my blood.


Though the memory insists that there is a grave between us,
Though every day I rave languidly to another,
I can’t believe that you will forget me,
When you are here, in front of me.


Whether other beauty flickers for a moment,
I wonder, about to recognize you;
And I hear the tenderness of the past,
And, shuddering, I sing.


I won’t tell you anything,
I won’t worry you at all,
And that I will silently hold out,
I will not dare to hint for anything.


Night flowers sleep all day,
But only the sun sets behind the grove,
The sheets are quietly revealed,
And I hear my heart blooming.


And in a sick tired chest
Blowing nightly moisture... I tremble.
I will only meet your smile
Or I will catch your gratifying gaze.


I don’t sing you a love song,
But your beloved beauty.
They say about the singer in the dawn,
As if a rose is in love with a trill In love!


I am glad to praise relentlessly
Over your fragrant cradle.
Only a song needs beauty,
Beauty doesn’t need a song, though.