Whence comes that sudden love
Which suddenly surprised me?
Whence comes that sweet pain
Which suddenly troubles my spirit?
Whence comes on me that anxiety
Which puts me beyond anxiety?

I who was used to laugh
At pining lovers,
Now I sigh
More than any lover.
Love makes me understand
That he has power over everyone.

I who was not used to being
Ruled except by myself,
Am no longer master of myself.
I have mortgaged my faith,
Securing myself to a heart
Which is the conqueror of my own.

I no longer have power
Over my desires,
Despite my resistance
All my passions
Arise from the bitter-sweet evil
Which they call love.

Whether Phoebus spreads
His rays upon us,
Or whether the night binds
Our eyes with sweet sleep,
Day and night my torment
Presses on me unceasingly.

Whether it never pleases me
To hobnob with men,
Or whether, seeking more ease,
I’m pleased to spend time with them, 
Whether it’s peaceful or noisy,
My ills always pursue me.

I thought to forget 
This madness eventually,
But the more I am enslaved
The more I feel myself bound
And the ills I feel
Grow with time.

With the boiling in my veins
I feed my torment
And myself give nourishment
To my pains;
I take pains to nourish
What makes me die.

My loyalty is not in doubt:
In reading of the torments
Which many a lover has suffered
In love’s flame, 
I feel in my spirit
More of them than is written.

I’m afraid that my lady
Doubts my warmth,
Or that another warms
Her love more than I.
He who loves with a true heart
Is never without fear.

I live in great distress:
Can a simple conversation,
A single caress,
Make me jealous?
I cannot willingly
Be on friendly terms with a third.

Love and jealousy
Following one on another
Give me death and life
A thousand times a day.
From the one will come a smile,
From the other cries.

Love is no other thing
To the heart which receives it
Than a thorn and a rose
Growing in the same place,
Which for love tastes
Of the sweet and the bitter.