Lyrics: Abed Azrié
Music: Abed Azrié
Gazelle, insufficient satisfaction
To remain your slave.
Would, one day, O, my crescent moon,
that, fortunate Fortune,
I could feast on you.
Vain hope such coalescence,
While your eyes rise and rove,
Then dart in all directions.
Count the conquests that were caught
By your allure and your indifference.
Glimmer of a glance that leaves a doubt
And proves how tepidness can burn.