Beloved, do you feel the ambrosial,
Soft motion of these breezes,
How, replete with ambergris scents,
They place about my breast and hips
The veil of Aphrodite?

All the violins, all the lutes
Softly sigh so beautifully and sorrowfully,
Making one aware once more
Of every old, sweet joy.
Sadly they call out to the dear
Maiden a mild "cease to be!"

Hear it, beloved, how they know
With the dark sounding of the voices
That, in a sea of kisses,
Grace and affection shall flow away
Tomorrow, when the lights gleam.

All the lutes, all the violins
Recede into a sweet weariness,
Every voice quietly wafts away,
Weave a final veil,
Humbly a lovely bowing down
Before the bride and the bridegroom.