In the desert of my solitude, my love, quiver;
The shadows of your voice, the mirage of your lips
In the desert of my solitude, from the arid dust of our parting;
Bloom the jasmine, the roses of your touch
From somewhere nearby
rises the warmth of your breath;
It smolders in its own perfume – gently, languorously
Far away, on the horizon, glistens
drop by drop;
The dew of your beguiling glance
With such tenderness, my love;
Your memory has placed its hand
on thе contours of my heart
Even though this is the dawn of our farеwell;
It feels like the sun has set on our separation and the night of our union is at hand