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As, Love, the way to fulfillment is shut
in the grave, to free my joyless sad heart, let us flee to the realm of peace and light whose door when shut by you I hesitate before. Stronger than Death are your bow and arrows if she destroys golden wounds, your added leaden arrows can cauterize the ache, ease this pressing emotional burden. What use is it for us to cry and mourn? What brief hopes, foolish vanities, prevent the shaken soul from seeking out her end? So Love, don't go, keep this sweet torment up, for that first encounter lit my heart and when I bite down the fire's in my breath. |
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Notes: From B A1:46:26. Key |