Eros harrows my heart: wild gales sweeping desolate mountains, uprooting oaks.
The Moon and Pleiades have set, / Midnight is nigh, / The time is passing, passing, yet / Alone I lie.
Someone, I tell you, in another time will remember us
The evening star Is the most beautiful of all stars
I took my lyre and said: come now, my heavenly tortoise shell: become a speaking instrument.
Love, like a mountain-wind upon an oak, falling upon me, shakes me leaf and bough.