Music fills the infinite between two souls. This has been muffled by the
mist of our daily habits.
On shy summer nights, when the breeze brings a vast murmur out of the
silence, I sit up in my bed and mourn the great loss of her who is beside
me. I ask myself, "When shall I have another chance to whisper to her words
with the rhythm of eternity in them?"
Wake up, my song, from thy languor, rend this screen of the familiar, and
fly to my beloved there, in the endless surprise of our first meeting!
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Lovers come to you, my Queen, and proudly lay their riches at your feet:
but my tribute is made up of unfulfilled hopes.
Shadows have stolen across the heart of my world and the best in me has
lost light.
While the fortunate laugh at my penury, I ask you to lend my failings your
tears, and so make them precious.
I bring you a voiceless instrument.
I strained to reach a note which was too high in my heart, and the string
broke.
While masters laugh at the snapped cord, I ask you to take my lute in your
hands and fill its hollowness with your songs.
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