As with the most intimate pleasure

As with the most intimate pleasure,

o song, I feel your sense;

lovingly you seem to say,

that I am always beside him;

That he thinks of me always,

and bestows the bliss of his love

evermore on the distant one

who has dedicated her life to him.

Yes, my heart is a mirror,

my friend, in which you see yourself;

this breast, where your seal

you pressed, kiss after kiss.

Sweet poems, clear truth

bind me in sympathy --

purely embody the clarity of love

in the garb of poetry!