Serenade

Gently, so as not to awaken you,

Rustles the night wind, dear woman!

Quietly into the marble basin

The fountain pours its dew.

As the water, dripping down,

Draws circle after circle,

So, gently pounding, does my heart

Tremble at this song.

Vibrate, o sounds of my zither,

Float upwards, on light wings;

Through the vine-wreathed lattice

Slip into my darling's boudoir.

"Is there then, my lovely Dolores,"

sing to her in her dream -

"In the mussel-shell of your ears,

Is there no room for pearl-like little words?

Think of the leaves, thickly enclosing the trellis,

Where, entwined among sweet-scented bushes,

You trembled in bliss,

Like the leaves above you!

The place was yet still and safe

And nothing espied us;

It was seldom that a night

Bird rustled in the foliage.

O give your friend one more hour,

When your arms enfold him thus,

And a kiss from your mouth

Pierces his heart like fire!

Have you so completely forgotten him?

Alone, he awaits you on the balcony;

Over the tops of the cypresses

The sickle-moon is already turning pale.

As the water, dripping down,

Draws circle after circle,

So, gently pounding, does his heart

Tremble at this song.