That afternoon

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That afternoon I was determined to confess to her
All that I feel for her in my soul,
And to swear to her eternal love, but when I looked at her
So close to me, I could not even confess to her
My love, much less pronounce an oath.
With my soul trembling and trembling,
With my heart grieved and agitated,
With sweaty hands, that beautiful afternoon
I did no more than give her a rose,
That I had stolen from a garden.