The evening star Is the most beautiful of all stars
Raise high the roof-beam, carpenters. Like Ares comes the bridegroom, taller far than a tall man.
No honey for me, if it comes with a bee.
Once again love drives me on, that loosener of limbs, bittersweet creature against which nothing can be done.
What cannot be said will be wept.
Stand and face me, my love,and scatter the grace in your eyes.