In the shadow of a wing I wish to tell this flowered tale of the girl from nowhere who died of love...

The wreaths were of lilies
And jasmine and mignonette;
We laid the girl to rest
In a silken casket.

...She gave a little scented pillow
To the forgetful one, and he
Returned,
Returned now wedded.
She died of love.

Ambassadors and bishops
Carried her bier, and there were
Relays of people following,
All with flowers.

...Wishing to see him again,
She went out on the belvedere;
He returned with his wife;
She died of love.

Softly, when evening fell,
The gravedigger bid me come.
Never again did I see that girl
Who died of love...