After-effect

She has gone, the bliss has sunk,

Now my cheeks glow, now tears run,

I'm reeling with sickly

feverish thoughts,

My heart pounds with desire and longing.

And if I'd begun the day with prayers,

And lived each day in quiet delight,

Now I live in a dreamy world,

Neglecting my work

To think of what she bestowed on me in words and gazes.

Thus do bees hang, long after the day has departed,

In the spring breezes of night and whispering winds,

As if intoxicated

And drowned in rapture,

On the trembling blossoms of the fragrant Linden tree.