My darksome heart doth love thee, It loves thee and it breaks, And breaks, and bleeds, and quivers, But thou see’st not how it aches.
I would that my woes all their fulness In one single word could convey; To the merry winds straight would I give it, Who would merrily bear it away.
That word so teeming with sadness They would carry, my loved one, to thee Thou wouldst hear it at every moment, Wouldst hear it where’er thou mightst be.
As soon as thine eyelids at nighttime Are peacefully closèd in sleep, My word would straightway pursue thee Far into thy visions most deep.
Thou hast pearls, thou hast diamonds also, Hast all that mortals adore; Thine eyes are among the fairest,-- My loved one, what wouldst thou have more?
Upon thine eyes so beauteous I’ve written many a score Of sweet immortal ballads,-- My loved one, what wouldst thou have more?
And with thine eyes so beauteous Hast thou tormented me sore, And brought me to utter perdition,-- My loved one, what wouldst thou have more?
He who for the first time loveth, Though ’tis hopeless, is a God; But the man who hopeless loveth For the second time’s--a fool.
I, a fool like this, am loving Once more, with no love responsive; Sun and moon and stars are laughing, I, too, join the laugh and--die.
Never match’d the timid coldness Of thy spirit, from the first, With my love’s untutor’d boldness, Which through rocks delights to burst.
Thou in love dost love the highway, And I see thee walk through life With thy husband taking thy way, As an honest teeming wife!
Counsel they gave me, and good instruction, Pour’d on me honours, by way of seduction Said I had only to wait for a while, And their protection upon me should smile.
Spite the protection they bid me hold cherish’d, I before long should of hunger have perish’d, Had I not happen’d a good man to see, Who took an interest kindly in me.
Good man indeed! for he gives me my food; Never can I forget conduct so good. Pity I cannot with kisses reply, For the good man is no other than--I!
This young man, so good and worthy, Cannot be too much respected; Oft he gives me wine and oysters, Gives me liquors well selected.
Coat and trousers fit him neatly, His cravat is still more sightly; And so comes he every morning For my health to ask politely.