Tout me déplait, mais rien ne m'est si gref,
Que ne voir point les beaus yeus de ma Dame,
Qui des plaisirs les plus dous de mon ame
Avéques eus ont emporté la clef.
Un torrent d'eau s'écoule de mon chef:
Et tout confus de soupirs je me pâme,
Perdant le feu, dont la divine flame
Seule guidoit de mes pensers la nef.
Depuis le jour, que je senti sa braise,
Autre beauté je n'ai veu, qui me plaise,
Ni ne verrai. Mais bien puissai-je voir
Qu'avant mourir seulement cette Fere
D'un seul tour d'oeil promette un peu d'espoir
Au coup d'Amour, dont je me desespere.
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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: 107
Everything displeases me, but nothing is as bad
As not at all to see the lovely eyes of my lady,
Who with them has taken away the key
To the sweetest pleasures of my soul.
A torrent of water flows from my eyes,
And perplexed with sighs I faint
At losing the fire whose divine flame
Alone could pilot the ship of my thoughts.
Since the day when I felt her warmth,
I've seen no other beauty which could please me,
Nor shall I. But I wish I could just see
Before dying this proud lady
With just a single glance of her eye
Promise a little hope to Love's arrow, of which I despair.
