Composer : Leonard Bernstein

Cunegonde!

Cunegonde, is it true?

Is it you so still and cold, love?

Could our young joys, just begun,

Not outlast the dying sun?

When such brightness dies so soon

Can the heart find strength to bear it?

Shall I ever be consoled, love? No, I swear it

By the light of this lover's moon.

Though I must see tomorrow's dawn,

My heart is gone where you are gone.

Shall I ever be consoled, love? No, I swear it

By the light of this lover's moon.

Good-bye, my love, my love, good-bye.

Cunegonde!