The darkness that’s hidden in the blue dark of the night
The silence that’s hold the calmness of the young spring
They all whisper the hymn; the hymn of the nocturnal long.
The ache that clapping on the wall of the my senses–
For not being with you sussurate somehow I’m yours, your’re mine.
I spread your name to the stars and the milky way;
You are mine, and no one, and no one.
I spread your name to the constellation of stars,
Giving the breeze, warm and equatorial, a song to sing
Giving the darkness to breath deep orchestrating the mid-night psithurism.
Oh, milady, I will spread your name to all those silent stars,—
I will breathe into the spring night calmness–
You are mine, you are mine…