My heart is turned into a wailing child,

In vain with sweets I seek to still its cries;

Sweet love, it calls for thee in sobbings wild

All day and night, with longing and with sighs.

What solace can I give it?

I showed my eyes the fair ones of this earth

And tried to please them—but I tried in vain.

Sweet love, for them all those were nothing worth—

Thee—only thee my heart would have again.

What solace can I give it?