[Verse 1] With immortal love he loves indeed, And never ceases — only he Who does not crush joy’s pure delight with greed, Who lifts his heart to stars that wander free, Who burns with flame until the grave’s last breath — Here on this earth knows love till death One madman only: Don Quixote. [Verse 2] He sees the coarse Aldonza plain, But what to him the bestial sweat That lifts all earthly toil and strain To gracious sun in light so great And exalts it far beyond all measure? He alone loves with heart’s true treasure — Poor madman, Don Quixote. [Verse 3] He turns into Dulcinea bright The maiden shaped by daily toil, And, kneeling humbly in her sight, Sings hymns of sweetness without spoil. What is youth’s flame — so swiftly fleeting — Before your love, forever beating, Old Don Quixote!
