If I were your sister I’d lie with you the night-long

To feel your bosom’s beating;

If I were your brother I’d wake you with a day-song

And give a kiss as greeting;

If I were your mother I’d hold you as a shut flower

When the dark comes creeping;

If I were your father I’d enter at the dawn-hour

To look upon you, sleeping.

What is there left over

For me, who am your lover?