| And again the moon is on the wave, gliding gently into me, | |
| on silent wings the night comes from there, as my heart longs to thee... | |
| For in my hand I still hold the rose that froze long times ago, | |
| its leafs have withered, it ceased to grow - left in me this woe. | |
| The wine of love, is o so sweet, but bitter is regret, | |
| I knew at sunset I would meet the ascending veils of dread. | |
| Before my eyes nocturnal curtains fall, | |
| The dark and gentle haze of the night, greedily devours all. | |
| "Woe to him whose heart is filled with bitter rue and who drowns in grief" | |
| In the silence of the night I loose myself, | |
| it makes me drunken with its sweet blue sound. | |
| In the drunk'ness of solitude I fear no more the solemn realms of death | |
| No single sigh from my lips as I drink the wine of bitterness | |
| My heart is aching nevermore for I know that all may end | |
| Just I and the poetry of the night, now forever one.... | |
| Just I and the poetry of the night, now forever one, | |
| The ensemble of silence plays so beautiful for me... . |
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