Jealousy

Damp day's light is quenched: damp night's darkness
Stretches over the sky its leaden garment.
Like a ghost, from behind the pine wood
Foggy moon has risen....
All brings upon my soul darkness grievous.
Far, far away rises the shining moon,
There the earth is filled with evening warmth
There the sea moveth with luxuriant wave
Under the heavens blue....
Now is the time. On the hillside now she walks
To the shore washed by noisy waves.
There, under the billowed cliffs
Alone she sits now melancholy....
Alone ... none before her weeping, grieves not,
Her knees none kisses in ecstasy.
Alone ... to lips of none she is yielding
Her shoulders, nor moist lips, nor snow-white fingers.
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None is worthy of her heavenly love.
Is it not so? Thou art alone.... Thou weepest....
And I at peace? . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
But if . . . . . . .