O maid more tender
Than a fair crimson bud 
To which the rosebush gives birth
At the rising of the sun,
And so makes in the morning
All the honour of the garden.
 
Embrace my neck, mistress,
With your two bent arms;
In a knot which squeezes me tightly
Sweetly bind me;
May our shared kiss
Be everlasting.

Neither time, nor the longing
To enjoy some other love
Cannot in any way pull my life
Back from your lips;
So let’s stay embracing
And we’ll die kissing.

Love with the flowers
Of eternal springtime
Will see our love-dalliance
In our maternal woods;
There we shall discover how many
Good things lovers enjoy.

Amid the great space
Of this happy grove
We shall both take our place
Among the lovers,
And like them without a care
We too shall make love.

No nymph of ancient time
Will be vexed
When from their spot
For us she will remove
Those whose eyes
Seized the hearts of the gods.