Night has come. Let us go then, Goddess of my dreams.
The Angel of Love has called us to the glory of his altar.
Darkness stirs up hymns and songs,
Its joy pervades the water, trees and clouds.
Let us dream now, for this is our night of love.
Let us stand along the Nile,
Where moonlight, lustrous as a baby's skin,
Floods the green bank beyond its water and its shade.
Let us play as it plays, kissing the roses and the dew.
There on the hillside, grass will be our cradle,
Silence will enfold our souls, Love's nightingale will trill.

There, a sail shimmers on a sea of light,
And sways us along banks Of bright enchantment;
Night stars murmur like beautiful eyes,
While you are at my lips, and in my arms,
A sylph whose heart is throbbing.
Let us dream now, for this is our night of love.
Summer nights are dreams,
And only lovers can perceive them,
The rapture dwells within us when the wine is gone,
The glowing cup we hold still sings and sparkles.
So let us drink our fill tonight from the sweet well of passion
Let us dream now, for this is our night of love.





A Rustic Song

When the water caresses the shade of the tree,
And the clouds court the light of the moon;
And the birds send forth their song
To re-echo between dew and blossom;
And the ringdove laments her passion,
Cooing to her love and bemoaning her fate;
And the lips of the breeze pass over the Nile,
Kissing every passing sail;
And the earth brings forth from its night,
There in its shade I take my place,
With heart distraught and saddened gaze.
I let my eyes wander through the skies,
My head downcast and sunk in thought.
Then, I see your face beneath the palm tree,
And by the river I hear your voice,
Until darkness is tired of my loneliness,
And sadness complains of boredom;
Until creation wonders at my bewilderment,
And the morningstar
Takes pity on me;
And I go on my way,
To search again in hope
For our encounter
At the longed-for hour.





The Blind Musician

When the moon wraps the earth in silvery light,
When the wind moans or raging lightning flashes,
When dawn opens the eyes of the tender narcissi,
I weep for the Flower who weeps with unshed tears.

Beautiful Lady, show Fate the bleeding place
Where the Archer's arrow hit the mark.
Let the sunrise touch a parched star
And soak up light from the well of your sublimity.

Let Dawn's tears kiss your sunset.
Do not lose yourself in sorrow for all the days you've lost
All around you is the universe: see it with your touch.
Take the flowers in your hands, leave the throns for my soul.

When night falls and silence spreads over the valley
Take your guitar. Seek your inspiration from the sorrowing clouds,
And move the stars to pity for a star without light.
Perhaps your song will draw down rays of mercy.

When birds in their humming nests
Pierce the branches in the garden with their warbling,
The fluttering music of my thoughts comes to you,
Singns out my poems, pays tribute to your beauty.

When the dew melts on the tender leaves
And the Golden Cruet pours its fragrance into flowers' cups,
I pray the Dream-Nymphs in their magic realm
To melt their tune into your eyelids, melt the sorrow in my heart.