In your heart sleeps a moonlight,
a soft summer's moonlight,
and, to flee from this relentless life,
I shall drown myself in your brightness.
I shall forget past sufferings,
my beloved, when you cradle
my sad heart and my thoughts
in the loving peace of your arms.
Oh! Sometimes you will take
my sick head upon your knees,
and will tell it a ballad
which will seem to speak of us;
and in your eyes full of sorrows,
in your eyes then I shall drink
so many kisses and tokens of love,
that perhaps I shall recover.