If Fryderyk were to be my breathing friend,
then in marriage I would ask for your hand.
For better or worse in this age we are,
let the beauties unfold like tulips’ heart.
O you need not be sorry for complications,
for they are the trials of my unyielding love;
such triumph testifies our truest affections,
bonded stronger yet our souls are.
Let me yet again throw myself,
and ask for a little chance to prove my heart.
Please allow me to lend you my arm.
So darling will you – be my love?
