Where silence rules, your presence reigns,
It loosens night’s eternal chains.
The stones grow warm, the air turns kind,
And all is softened in your mind.

The roses hush, their colors rest,
As if they’ve met what blooms the best.
No bloom can last, no thorn can be,
When touched by light of purity.

The ivy curls, the garden sighs,
The night grows bright within your eyes.
The stars grow still, the moon delays,
To linger long upon your gaze.