Tra i fiori del giardino, Silvestro Lega (1862)
Among Flowers in the Garden, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Silent among flowers in the garden,
Playing a game so aptly called Pretend.
Reading it appears, but already done,
To happy thoughts of you I may attend.
You’re here in a bed with many flowers,
Stooping down you are the very first pick.
Soon inside my heart a warm feeling stirs,
There be not any doubt, I am lovesick.
This book I hold, wishing it be your hand,
To walk with you under the summer light.
Your quickest return, if I could command,
It will not be pretend, lonely this night.
The morning will come, I shall make our bed.
Without you, a million tears will I shed.