Oh, my lover, turn around, look at me once more.
Don't look at me, look at us, together.
Under small touches of love and soul,
Give me a last kiss, the last chance of life.
And don't dare let me go, let the parfume of linden and jasmine,
Take you thought of leaving and come back to me.
Let us be one, to exist one with another, not as two, but as one being.
But you left, leaving me in our bed,
Imbued with your parfume and my
soul.
With longing flowing on the cheeks you used to caress,
With the memory of what made my insides tickle
And gave me wings to hope.
But how can I still hope? Hope that you will come back, my lover,
How can I still breath? Breath if it isn't the same air as yours,
And I know that you won't come back, leaving me to drown in my own bitterness.
"And when love speaks, the voice of all the gods make heaven drowsy with the harmony."-W. Shakespeare