Love will call to you some day of June,
your lonely garden must be quiet and arranged
as if you were to die in solitude.
You must be dressed in an old-pink gown,
a burial robe just like a wedding one,
because Love and Death are so near and so far!
Your lonely garden must be full of bees,
the lillies must be gathered in your arms,
then you will sit and wait under the trees.
O, please, a moment! Something is missing in the place.
Under a tree a table must be set,
a table with more flowers and a book
a silver-bell and a tea-cup.
Let us hang violins from the highest branches,
let us forget the moon,
Love will come here riding on a bicycle
as softly as this quiet afternoon.
What more? More flowers, yes, more flowers on the benches,
and a little scholar smile
to dance with the music-lesson of your eyes.
Love will call to you some day of these,
maybe he is coming now. You fix my tie
and we shall sit and wait under the trees.
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