WE TWO LAY sunk in the dusk of dreams; the time of awakening has come waiting for the last word from you. Turn your face to me and with a tear-dimmed glance make the sorrow of parting ever beautiful. The morning will appear with its early star on the far-distant sky of loneliness. The pain of this farewell night has been captured in my vina-strings, the lost glory of love will remain woven in my visions. Open with your own hands the door towards final separation.
HE CAME AND sat by my side but I woke not. What a cursed sleep it was, O miserable me! He came when the night was still; he had his harp in his hands, and my dreams became resonant with its melodies. Alas, why are my nights all thus lost? Ah, why do I ever miss his sight whose breath touches my sleep?