Love - bittersweet, irrepressible - loosens my limbs and I tremble.
The moon is setand the Pleiades; Middle ofthe night, time passes by,I lie alone.
To me the Muses truly gave / An envied and a happy lot: / E'en when I lie within the grave, / I cannot, shall not, be forgot.
Love is a cunning weaver of fantasies and fables.
All the while, believe me, I prayed our night would last twice as long.
Someone, I tell you, in another time will remember us