The furtive swallows will return
to hang their nests beneath your balcony
and again their flutter at your windowpane
will call you to their play
but those that paused in flight and stayed
to contemplate your beauty and my luck
ah, those that learned our names
ah, they will not return.
The honeysuckle will return
with swelling shoots to climb your garden wall
and again at evening still more beautiful
its flowers will unfold
but those petals pearled with dew
whose droplets we watched shudder
and fall like tears of sunlight,
those, my lady, those will not return.
And to your ears there will return
the sound of words of burning love,
your heart now deep in sleep
perhaps will waken,
but mute, engrossed and kneeling
as you adore Our Lord before His altar
so have I loved you, and don't cheat yourself,
like this, dearest, they will not burn.
Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer