Melodies that help us sleep are those we cherish,
Hidden in the strings, they are but destined to perish,
But the one whose charm never dies,
That which snatches the sleep from my eyes,
Which, in my heart you have magically wove,
Like a spider web, is this song of love,
In its beauty I am for ever stuck,
Call it my fate or call it my luck!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem