If only love would spread its savor through me!
-not to go one moment more without spring!
What I sold into sorrow was only my hands,
dearest: now leave me with your kisses.
Shut out the month’s light with your fragrance;
close all the doors with your hair.
Only do not forget, if I wake up crying
it’s only because in my dream I’m a lost child
hunting through the leaves of the night for your hands,
for your caresses like the wheat,
the flashing rapture of shadow and energy.
O my dearest, nothing but shadow there
where you walk with me through your dream:
you tell me when the light returns.