From her green balcony my maiden

From her green balcony my maiden

gazes down at me through the trellis.

With her eyes she blinks kindly,

but with her finger she says: "No!"

Luck, which never lets

young love unfold without tangles,

has allotted me a certain joy,

but aslo a precarious one.

I hear either endearments or scolding

when I come to her window shutters.

It's always the same with maidens:

a little pain will mingle with happiness:

With her eyes she blinks kindly,

but with her finger she says: "No!"

How can she bear

her coldness and my ardor?

While my heaven rests in her,

I see darkness and light chasing each other.

The wind bears away my wistful cry

that my sweet darling has never

clasped me in her arms.

Yet she holds me off so subtly -

With her eyes she blinks kindly,

but with her finger she says: "No!"