My days—my precious days!—where do they go
When I’m immersed in dreams of you and I?
My time—my treasured time!—how it does fly!
This fantasy of mine is all I know,
For when I’m living life I am in woe,
And my foe, Anguish, is whom I defy
With these dreams in which there is no goodbye
And no reason to ever say hello.
My love has not been false to any end;
Reality appears to have no heart—
If anything it wants for us to part,
For it does not show sympathy to truth.
It seems as though Anguish is its best friend:
The adversary of the love-struck youth.