In your hair is the perfume of the night,
in your eyes the thunderous light of a storm.
The taste of the night trembles on your tongue.
My heart is nailed into the black ebony night.

The night is in your frail and dark uplifted face
and in your arms and their fine velvet down.
Night is in the farthest reaches of your flesh:
night scented by rose, vanilla and cinnamon...

Night is in your brown and irridescent eyes:
the stars seethe in your sparkling effervescence.
Night is in your brown eyes as you close them:
permanent night, shadowy night, bewitching night.

All the music of the night dissapears
into your ears, and lulls you with its soft murmur.
All the music of the night is in your ears,
in your voice and your laughter and your unshed tears...

Hidden in your face a restless anguish roams,
in your loving heart's the thunderous light of a storm.
In this bewitching night, I foresee what's too come...
The taste of the night trembles on your tongue.
Your hands are two pale moons on my brow.

The nails in you, pierce me too - delicious
night, ah night...! The warm wood of my cross!

English translation by Paul Archer