In the face of grief, one sound has caused
Sadness to turn tail -
The song of love sung by the lips
Of my lovely nightingale.

No words were writ, nor notes been sung
To rival this masterpiece,
Which from the pit of loneliness
Has given me release.

Not Da Vinci, nor Rembrandt himself
Could ever have produced
A work of art so rich in beauty,
Who my heart has seduced.

On clouds of white, with wings of gold,
She prepares to take flight
When love so true in tales of old
At last has reached her sight.

My heart proclaims that this day forth,
Whatever comes our way,
My love which flows from deep within
Forever hers will stay.

My nightingale of unmatched beauty,
Sing to me this night,
That my heart may be filled with joy
Till morning brings its light!