Silentium Amoris

As often-times the too resplendent sunHurries the pallid and reluctant moonBack to her sombre cave, ere she hath wonA single ballad from the nightingale,So doth thy Beauty make my lips to fail,And all my sweetest singing out of tune.

And as at dawn across the level meadOn wings impetuous some wind will come,And with its too harsh kisses break the reedWhich was its only instrument of song,So my too stormy passions work me wrong,And for excess of Love my Love is dumb.

But surely unto Thee mine eyes did showWhy I am silent, and my lute unstrung;Else it were better we should part, and go,Thou to some lips of sweeter melody,And I to nurse the barren memoryOf unkissed kisses, and songs never sung.