Serenade

If I were, o my love,

The breeze of a perfumed breath

Brushing against your cheerful mouth

I would become timid and charmed.

If I were the bee that flew,

Or the seductive butterfly,

You would not see me, frivolous,

Leave you for another flower.

If I were the charming rose

Which your hand placed on your heart

So near to you, all trembling,

I would faint with happiness.

But in vain I seek to please you.

I quite moan and sigh.

I am a man, and what can I do?

Love you... tell you so... and cry!