To you I will say nothing at all,
And you I will in no way unease;
At what I so in silence do fall,
Never then will I so much as hint.
All day sleep evening flowers in bliss
Past the grove but the sun will ascend;
All the leaves with such quiet dehisce,
And I hear how my heart's joy extends.
In my breast both so sickly and bent
Humid night rages and blows ... yet I stall.
But you I will in no way unease,
To you I will say nothing at all.