Such sadness would befall me,
Sweet songstress
Hidden in your little breast,
Such mournful melancholy song.
From what sad cause
Such sweet sorrow would flow.
To the dewy night and the moon
As you sing your fate though.
A poet’s musing fancy
What has befallen you?
A love’s arrow,
Ah! What martyred thou?
From friends falleth or a deception’s woe.
Such your tender lot
That you sigh and you sing in a libretto.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem