The rite is finished, the sacred wood
Is empty.
Now I can sigh, unseen

At last, here where first he came to me,
My fatal Roman whose love
Made me a traitor to my vows, my God.

Had that first time been the last!
A vain desire - for I am powerless
Before that force. My heart feeds

On the sight of him, and the breeze
Repeats to me his dear voice.
Ah, protect me, God, for I am lost.

Great God, take pity, for I am lost.