Valgovind's Song in the Spring

The Temple bells are ringing,     The young green corn is springing,          And the marriage month is drawing very near.     I lie hidden in the grass,     And I count the moments pass,          For the month of marriages is drawing near.     Soon, ah, soon, the women spread     The appointed bridal bed          With hibiscus buds and crimson marriage flowers,     Where, when all the songs are done,     And the dear dark night begun,          I shall hold her in my happy arms for hours.     She is young and very sweet,     From the silver on her feet          To the silver and the flowers in her hair,     And her beauty makes me swoon,     As the Moghra trees at noon          Intoxicate the hot and quivering air.     Ah, I would the hours were fleet     As her silver circled feet,          I am weary of the daytime and the night;     I am weary unto death,     Oh my rose with jasmin breath,          With this longing for your beauty and your light.