Lover, I

I won't ever have any apprehension about adoration,

Not of its profundity nor its furthest level,

Its wonderful aggravation and its awful joy.

I won't ever have any feeling of dread toward adoration.

I won't ever hold back to go down

Into the quickness of its chasm

Nor recoil from the mercilessness of its horrendous kiss.

I won't ever have any anxiety toward affection.

Never will I fear love's solidarity

Nor any aggravation it could give.

Through every one of the years I might live

I won't ever have any feeling of dread toward affection.

I won't ever move back from adoration

Through feeling of dread toward its tremendous aggravation

However, construct delight of it and count it once more.

I won't ever have any apprehension about adoration.

I won't ever shudder nor recoil

From affection's trim touch:

I have cherished too frightfully and to an extreme

Ever to have any apprehension about adoration.