Aubade

The bird in the bush

has saluted the dawn,

and a pale ray of light

has reddened the horizon:

behold the fresh morning!

If you wish to see the flowers

opening everywhere toward the light,

open your eyelids

o maiden with the gentle expression!

The voice of your sweetheart

has dispelled your dream;

I see your white veil

that trembles and stirs,

a sign of charming love!

Descend to this carpet of moss

where the breeze is once again warm,

and the light is gentle;

Hurry, o my treasure!