Ah, Tulip-cheeked, thy path is one of hearts;
But mine may never lie before thy feet;
Thy face shames every face, however sweet—
I may not purchase Joy in other marts.
I said unto my heart: ‘Thou leavest me;
No more hast thou thy home within my breast.’
My heart replied: ‘With her is life and rest.
I may no longer tarry here with thee.
‘Her eyes and tresses are my daily need—
Starved am I, dying, kept away from her,
Whose body is of spice and nard and myrrh;
Yea, I must follow where she choose to lead.’
Thus is my heart departed to thy care,
And see, my soul unto my lips doth rise;
Grant me one kiss, that so in Paradise
My soul may join my heart forever there!
It is for thee my body melts like wax
Beneath the constant burning of the flame;
My blood is kindled at thy very name,
My might doth loosen and my will relax.
O Heart, on grief alone thou still must live,
Nourished by pain and drenched with bitter tears;
Fed on sweet promises for weary years,
Now I have only memories to give.
Ah! Fortune, pity me! behold my pain!
Sorrow alone unto my soul is given;
Let life be short to him whose heart is riven,
Brim not with bitterness the cup I drain!
My life and youth unto the winds are given,
And for thy sake my wealth is flung aside.
Thy promises the zephyrs scatter wide,
As light as down before the breezes driven.
I drink no more as in the days of old,
Red wine, in token of my love for thee,
Yet not for shame of hallowed revelry
Do I forego its pleasures manifold.
But one should drink in joy, from sorrow free,
And happiness should crown the wine cup blest;
My heart is heavy, and my soul distressed,
Since they have made their dwelling-place with thee.