Solitude

You quiet place of beloved solitude,

my paradise, where only beauty flowers!

how intimately you please my eyes and heart,

when they see themselves in your shadow!

There I lay down annoyance

and leave it at your entrance, my sorrow's grave.

Here I live freely, here am I mine;

no stranger eavesdrops on my pleasure;

and I mix also a little foolishness.

Then stay, you walls, but discreetly.

Enough that my spirit has the strength

to create cleverly, even by foolishness.

Is isolation called mostly an annoyance?

To me it appears not. I call it my amusement.

It seems to me, one friend of many friends must

value suspicion and coercion for his pleasures.

Falsehood really always borrows light from friendship.

I am by myself: there I can be safe.

I am by myself, I, my familiar friend,

my pastime, my daily fellow;

And he who does not intend to be faithful and honest,

yields only to me and this threshhold!

I seek nothing but your security,

you quiet place of beloved isolation!