Andante from Italian Concerto, BWV 971.
|Little do you know how much you love me,
For there can be no faith without desire.
Little does your pleasure feel the fire
That burns beneath your cool avoidance of me.
You know no ease or ecstasy above me,
No balm so rich in all that you require,
No breast so full on which you may expire,
Satisfied that in your joy you've moved me.
My love for you is such that I will wait
Until in pain or passion you turn towards me,
Full of need that needs my knowing art.
My yearning for your love will not abate,
Though not one single word or thought rewards me,
And I must dwell unnoticed in your heart.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon