如今你在哪儿,我的美人儿?是不是正在小花园里浇花——它们爱你犹如婴儿爱他母亲的怀抱?还是在你自己的斗室,你曾在那里为纯洁建造了一座祭坛,把我的精神和呼吸作为牺牲供献在上面?还是埋头于自己的书堆——汲取人间的才智,虽说你富有众神的智慧? 你在哪儿,我心灵的女友?是不是正在神庙里为我祈祷?还是在田野里和大自然谈心,而你的欢悦和幻梦正在那儿徘徊?还是在穷人们的茅舍间,用你灵魂的魅力安慰那些破碎的心,在他们的双手中装满恩惠? Where are you now, my beauty? Are you watering the little garden - they love you as if the baby loves his mother’s arms? Or is it in your own cubicle where you used to have an altar built for purity, Is my spirit and breath sacrificed for sacrifice? Or is it buried in my own pile of books - to draw upon the human intellect, though you are rich in the wisdom of the gods? Where are you, my soul-mate? Is it in the temple? Do I pray, or am I talking to nature in the fields, where is your joy and dreams wandering, or is it in the poor huts, comforting those broken hearts with the charms of your soul, full of grace in their hands?