The night is nearly spent 
waiting for him in vain. 
I fear lest in the morning 
he suddenly come to my door 
when I have fallen asleep wearied out. 
Oh friends, leave the way open to him - 
forbid him not.

If the sounds of his steps does not wake me, 
do not try to rouse me, I pray. 
I wish not to be called from my sleep 
by the clamorous choir of birds, 
by the riot of wind at the festival of morning light. 
Let me sleep undisturbed 
even if my lord comes of a sudden to my door.

Ah, my sleep, precious sleep, 
which only waits for his touch to vanish. 
Ah, my closed eyes that would open their lids only 
to the light of his smile when he stands before me 
like a dream emerging from darkness of sleep.

Let him appear before my sight 
as the first of all lights and all forms. 
The first thrill of joy to my awakened soul 
let it come from his glance. 
And let my return to myself 
be immediate return to him.