It is now the dewy season,
The season of the happy meetings of love,
The season of the quenching
of all fires of pain.
To me everything seems
to be dew wet;
From the blue of heaven
the dew is falling soft;
It is the dew of deep,
deep unions;
And wonder and worship
is in the eyes.
The separated ones shall meet!
It is the season
of the cooling dew!
The dew is falling everywhere,
And wet is every rose.
The gentle breath
of heaven blows.