I ask the stars, but they're weeping
I beg the moon, but he's sleeping
It's only me who's still writing
In my head my words are giggling

There are hundreds of beauty
But I'm only longing for thee
My heart yearns for him no longer
'Cos thou art my truest lover

If thou could be here for one night
Until the day is again bright
My innocent soul, mirth, and sky
As though there would be no more cry

If only thou'd be here with me
And dance 'till spring flash's into view
Lost in the prudent morning dew
And the holy song of the bee

If only there's a second chance
Where I could be more than thy friend
Let me dream in thy pristine charms
Let me be embraced in thy arms

At this very night I but pray
That thou would come to me one day
Perhaps in that summer of May
When bushes bloom and flowers stay

Thy gaze my festive solitude
Thy kiss blesses my dear prelude
Thy promises my windblown flute;
Thy love'th my Eolian lute.