And again the moon is on the wave, gliding gently into me,   on silent wings the night comes from there,   as my heart longs to thee...      ...for in my hand I still hold the rose that froze long times ago,   its leafs have withered, it ceased to grow - left in me is woe.      The wine of love, is o so sweet, but bitter is regret,   I knew at sunset I would meet the ascending veils of dread.      Before my eyes nocturnal curtains fall,   The dark and gentle haze of the night, greedily devours all.      The Night:   "Woe to him whose heart is filled with bitter rue and who drowns in grief"      In the silence of the night I loose myself,   it makes me drunken with its sweet blue sound.      In the drunk'ness of solitude   I fear no more the solemn realms of death   No single sigh from my lips as I drink the wine of bitterness   My heart is aching nevermore   for I know that all may end   Just I and the poetry of the night   Now forever one....      Just I and the poetry of the night, now forever one,   The ensemble of silence plays so beautiful for me...