Ha, seigneur dieu, que de graces écloses
Dans le jardin de ce sein verdelet,
Enflent le rond de deus gazons de lait,
Où des Amours les fléches sont encloses!
Je me transforme en cent metamorfoses,
Quand je te voi, petit mont jumelet,
Ains du printans un rosier nouvelet,
Qui le matin bienveigne de ses roses.
S'Europe avoit l'estomac aussi beau,
De t'estre fait, Jupiter, un toreau,
Je te pardonne. Hé, que ne sui-je puce!
La baisotant, tous les jours je mordrois
Ses beaus tetins, mais la nuit je voudrois
Que rechanger en homme je me pusse.
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [
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This text was added to the website: 2010-10-28
Line count: 14
Word count: 97
Oh Lord God, how many graces blossoming
In the garden of this ripe breast
Swell the roundness of the two milky lawns
Where the arrows of Love are enclosed!
I change myself into a hundred different forms
When I see you, small twin mounds,
Like a young rose-bush in spring
Which the morning welcomes with its own rose.
If Europa had so fine a breast
That you made yourself, Jupiter, into a bull
Then I pardon you. Oh, that I could be a flea
Giving her little kisses, all day long I would nibble
Her beautiful nipples, but at night I'd wish
That I could change back into a man.
