Sorrows of Love for the One Who Bears the Dove.

What desires can I satisfy?
Oh what fantasies fulfill?
But, who would all boundaries defy,
To enter through my window sill?

With me, no one scrambles to be.
Oh, how long the agony turns my soul to lead.
No, not a single flower blooms for me
Will this change before I lay cold and dead?

There are plenty of fish in the sea,
There are plenty of birds in the sky.
Yet none will rest upon my knee.
None, in love with me, will sigh.

Righteousness is my lover, it seems.
I find her always with me.
She glows forever in my dreams.
She is the sky, the sea.

Alas, righteousness is not a living being:
She has no breath or mind.
So still alone I sing.
Oh fortune, do be kind.

If you please, laws of nature grand.
Show to me a way that I may hold a precious hand.
Allow for me the splendour of love.
Do I not worship the dove?

Bear that in mind, you spirits so conniving!
Hear me moan inside my depths!
Is this some evil you are contriving?
I wallow not in sin.

Then, why this madness from within?
Why this race I can not win?
Surely there can be no god above,
If that god cared a thought for love.