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Love shakes my soul, like a mountain wind
Falling upon the trees,
When they are swayed and whitened and bowed
As the great gusts will.
I know why Daphne sped through the grove
When the bright god came by,
And shut herself in the laurel’s heart
For her silent doom.
Love fills my heart, like my lover’s breath
Filling the hollow flute,
Till the magic wood awakes and cries
With remembrance and joy.
Ah, timid Syrinx, do I not know
Thy tremor of sweet fear?
For a beautiful and imperious player
Is the lord of life.