She falls asleep, the princess bride,
Peacefully by exotic Naxos' sea,
Underneath a sweet palm tree
With her shining spouse at her side;

When she awakes, she is alone,
Stranded, her husband gone
To the lush, warm sea,
Abandoning his Ariadne.

Long at sea, his heart is sick for home,
Yet, is haunted by looming Naxos;
Finding its memories too burdensome,
He turns to wine to relieve his woes.

He wonders briefly of his heartsick Ariadne,
But not for long; wine clouds over his perfidy.
Yet in Naxos, her tempest icily steels;
Raging Ariadne to the gods appeals.