The girl from Spoleto
You are so slim, as the candles in temple.
Your gaze - as sword penetrating me all.
Girl - I'm not expecting from you any dazzling -
Let me to burn in the fire as monk!
I dare not any happiness, caress.
Could I outrage you with my touch, being rude?
Only I look at fence as a painter,
Where you pick the flowers, 'n love you!
By and by - you are with wind driven far away -
By hot sun scorched - Maria! Let me to see
In you a cherub, who flies in the heaven,
Let my heart - test a sweet pain from my feel!
Quietly I interweave in your dark curls
My precious brilliant of secret verse.
Greedily I throw loving heart to a source
Of your dark eyes, shining bright from love force.
3 june 1909