In the street I met while walking
Death ... a sight that pleased me so,
auburn locks that told of summer
fair maid’s skin as white as snow.
‘Let me live’ I death requested
in my young heart’s pangs of woe!

‘Live for just a tranquil springtime
close to your fine virgin snow!
Close to your most chaste of aspects
let me but that one spring know
with the kisses that a sweetheart
when in private would dare show!’

Dressed in lace-frills by the thousand
she was like a field of flowers.
But within her lovely shell was
winter-frozen, dead and dour.
I have asked impossibility
make a marriage bed this hour.

I have asked impossibility
deck herself as bride so chaste.

I have asked of death a springtime,
Therefore I must be erased.