I wait for, full of thoughts provoking,
But not a gay and pretty wife,
Not the sincere and gentle talking
About the old time and life.

And not a mistress: I am bored
With languor whispers, languor looks,
And with delights, a lot and more,
And more tortures that I took.

I wait for him, who-s sent by Deities,
Who is my friend by sacred rights,
Because my heart has pined for centuries
For silence and for heaven-s heights.

And how wrong was he, the merciless,
Who lost eternity at once,
By taking for the iron fetters,
The dreams that were uniting us.