Among the amateurs of Karmen,
Hasting around in a motley crowd,
Calling her to go with them,
One is staying as a shade near the grey wall
Of the night tavern 'Lillas-Pastya',
He is silent, looks somberly,
Doesn't wait or demand an espousal.
But when the tambourine begins its sound,
And the wrists ring dumbly, -
He recollects the days of spring,
He looks on her melodious figure,
And in the ocean of waving sounds
Lives through his creative dreams.
26 March 1914