While your lips are still red...

Sweet little words made for silence

not talk

Young heart for love

not heartache.

Dark hair for catching the wind

not to veil the sight of a cold word.

Kiss while your lips are still red,

while he's still silent.

Rest while bosom is still untouched, unveiled,

hold another hand while the hand's still whitout a tool.

Drown into eyes while they're still blind,

love while the night still hides the withering dawn.

First day of love never comes back,

a passionate hour's never a wasted one.

The violin, the poet's hand,

every thawing heart plays your theme with care...