Why have you to sustain the mourning
With evil thoughts without end,
Wait for the day of outgoing
In bashful sadness, o, my friend?
It'll come -- the day of lamentations!
Amidst the mute and empty plain,
You'll call the vivid recollection
Of time you now lose in vain!
Then you, unhappy, will be ready
To buy, with your exile or death,
The single word of your sweet lady,
The easy sound of her steps.