And again the moon is on the wave, gliding gently into me,
on silent wings the night comes from there,
as my heart longs to thee...
...for in my hand I still hold the rose that froze long times ago,
its leafs have withered, it ceased to grow - left in me is woe.
The wine of love, is o so sweet, but bitter is regret,
I knew at sunset I would meet the ascending veils of dread.
Before my eyes nocturnal curtains fall,
The dark and gentle haze of the night, greedily devours all.
The Night:
"Woe to him whose heart is filled with bitter rue and who drowns in grief"
In the silence of the night I loose myself,
it makes me drunken with its sweet blue sound.
In the drunk'ness of solitude
I fear no more the solemn realms of death
No single sigh from my lips as I drink the wine of bitterness
My heart is aching nevermore
for I know that all may end
Just I and the poetry of the night
Now forever one....
Just I and the poetry of the night, now forever one,
The ensemble of silence plays so beautiful for me...
