Before you vanish

Before you vanish,

pale morning star...

(A thousand quails

are singing in the thyme!)

turn towards the poet,

whose eyes are full of love...

(The lark

is rising to the sky with the daybreak!)

turn your gaze which the dawn

is drowning in its blueness...

(What joy

among the fields of ripe corn!)

and make my thoughts shine

there, far away, far away...

(The dew

is gleaming brightly on the hay!)

into the sweet dream where my darling

while still asleep is stirring...

(Quickly, quickly,

for here is the golden sun!)