My heart is a shining fire,
caused, the sun looked dark
every morning, will rise from thy brows
to worship thou, Goddess of mine.
My heart is a high moon, flowing like water.
It's a fiery river,
leading the light, from my chest, over the mountains
to set on fire, the nightly bazaar of dark sleep.
My heart is a speaking magic lantern
drunken from thy look,
taken the light from thy face,
made words, as light as thy beauty.
Nobody knows its words, other than thou, my shining still and, no instrument played its melody other than thy eyes.
My heart is a sleepless magus,
amazed from this secrets,
surrounded thy figure
yet th'art appear, standing, praising thyself stature.
I see,
I sit,
I wonder
I prostrate,
I worship thee, in my adytum.
Th'art, that spring of sun
boiling from the earth, to the roof of the caelis,
raised up the demur.
Thou, delicate and lovely, forever,
have a new religion, to worship thyself,
let me, to burst into flame, my fiery love, by thy sweet lips.