His eyes are sweet lights
Soft glimmers that watch
over the enchanted class
of months and seasons
Sweet, his hands, his voice
That tells me wonders
And sweet is his presence
In the heart of my house
Sweet are the winter nights
And sweet are the hails
That come to repopulate the garden ground
Sweet are our walks, our paths to cross
Sweet are the blue hours from the night to the morning
Sweet, sweet, sweetly
In spite of the world
And its torments
So sweet, in the refuge of the wind
The sweet eternity
Flowing from fountains
In the springtime when the wind disperses the fogs
The sweet open door in the shadow of the great oak tree
And sweet is its scent in the silk of a scarf
Sweet is the summer night that makes your eyelids turn blue
And sweet is its heat sleeping in the black
Sweet is the amicable certainty of the stones
And the shadow of a bird on the evenings' shoulder
Sweetly
In spite of the world
That lies to us
So sweet, in the refuge of the wind
Sweetly
Sweetly