I sit there at the shore

I sit there at the shore,

Waves, how you hurry!

Ah, you will so closely approach the place

Where my maiden lives.

There she gazes into you.

Waves, take wing;

Do not let other waves

Be a mirror for my beloved.

The dear child is searching for roses

To use as a bow on her bosom.

Rose, oh rose, come quickly

So that she may seize you.

And that my queen

May lack nothing in the way of ornaments,

Send, Longing, pearls to her,

Pearls from out the soul.

But if she fishes you up in jest,

Using her white hands as a net,

And she pins you to her heart,

Tell her my name.

Tell her that I can no longer

Linger far from her,

And that a ship shall soon

Carry me toward her.