Words, words I abidingly spoke.
Hera saw through them; burnt, they became smoke.
No ashes remained yet I am still here,
My own words nonexistent, no one can hear.

I must wait now; wait to echo melodies,
Duplicate and replay the sounds, which surround me.
No discussion shall they speak be unrequited,
Including those of love, my heart cannot be quieted.

Your graceful walk, your enduring voice,
Your handsome features; I scream mutely and rejoice.
Though my eyes are now clouded by a rosy hue,
My heart silently screams for I find that I love you.

Confident you stride flawlessly up a mountainside,
Heartily you speak and I only but echo, echo your cry.
I now open up my heart to thee,
Yet you of your beauty cannot hear me.