Your scent is in the room
Swiftly it overwelms and conquers me!
Jasmine, night jasmine, perfect of perfume,
Heavy with dew before the dawn of day!

Your face was in the mirror. I could see
Your smile and vanish suddenly away
Leaving behind the vestige of a tear
Sad suffering face, from parting grown so dear!

Night jasmine cannot bloom in this cold place
Without the street is wet and weird with snow,
The cold nude trees are tossing to and fro;
Too stormy is the night your fond face!

For your low voice too loud the mind's mad roar
But oh, your scent is here-jasmines that grow
Luxuriant, clustered round your cottage door...

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