He is a god in my eyes, that man, Given to sit in front of you And close to himself sweetly to hear The sound of your speaking. Your magical laughter - this I swear - Batters my heart - my breast astir - My voice when I see you suddenly near Refuses to come.

My tongue breaks up and a delicate fire Runs through my flesh; I see not a thing With my eyes, and all that I hear In my ears is a hum. The sweat runs down, a shuddering takes Me in every part and pale as the drying Grasses, then, I think I am near The moment of dying.
 
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