song

O Beloved, let us hurry,
for time is getting short;
delay will harm
both of us.

The gifts of noble beauty
flee step by step,
and everything we have
must pass away.

The splendor of your
cheeks will pale,
your hair will be grey,
the flash of your eyes will fade,

the flame of your passion
will turn to ice;
your dear coral mouth
will lose its shape,

your hands will shrink
like snow,
and you will be old.

So let us enjoy now
the fruit of youth
before we have to follow
the flight of the years.

If you love yourself,
love me too;
give me so that when you give
I lose something too.

Martin Opitz

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