Hymn
To the dearest, to the most lovely
Who lights the heart in me,
To the angel immortal, the idol,
Praise to eternity!
She sifts through my intimate being
Like the tang of salt from the sea,
And into my famishing spirit
Pours a taste for the heavenly.
Sachet always fresh in perfuming
The air of a cherished retreat,
A censer diffusing its fragrance
By night, with a secret heat,
How can I, my perfect beloved,
Give word of you truthfully?
Grain of musk ineluctably hidden
In the holiest centre of me!
To the purest, to the most lovely,
My joy and my sanity,
To the angel immortal, the idol,
Praise to eternity!
Přeložil James McGowan
