Sonnet # 23

When the night's deep and its air's very cold.
And then more pain if such a night's full moon,
I think of those who have in love grown old.
And I in tears your name say with sad tune.
When a love song I hear, or wine I drink,
The liquid of your mouth gets to my mind.
The picture of your mouth comes to me pink.
My passion for your soul sees you so kind.
I'm wishing you when I know well, my dear,
That love cannot be bought with anything.
But in my heart I fail to make sure, clear
That for my male face your eyes do not sing.
         Dreams of you of truth I know are crazy.
         But let me dream! I am naïve, my Lady.