Frolicsome little Nymph,
Nymphette I idolize,
my sweetheart in whose eyes
I see my best and my worst,
my darling, my sweet,
my graceful one, my Cytherea:
to calm me you must kiss me
a thousand times a day.

You owe me thirty of them in the morning,
Then after dinner fifty,
And then twenty after supper.
What?  Are you trying to cheat me?!

Advance me one quarter, my fair one,
My turtledove;
Advance me [every quarter's]1
Remuneration all together!

Wait!  Where are you going, mistress?
The desire which presses on me so
Cannot stop like that
If it is not [completely]2 happy 
with its payment.

Come back, come back, sweetie,
My honey, my violet,
Apple of my eye, my heart, my love:
O my cruel one, who always
Find some charming trick
Which with its sweet deception
Bit by bit overcomes my strength,
Just as you see atop a mountain
The white snow suddenly rush down,
Or as the fresh rose
Loses the [redness of its colour,
When struck by the sun's rays.]3

Where are you going, my little angel4
My diamond, my little pearl?
Come back, my sweetheart
To my breast, my lap,
And with a hundred kisses calm
The burning fire in my heart.

Give me them lips against lips,
One wet, one dry,
One babbling, and one
Which is still longer 
Than those of loving doves
Fluttering couple by couple.

Aha, my sweet warrior,
Draw back your mouth a little:
That last kiss you gave
Has so overwhelmed
My life with a thousand pleasures
That it has practically torn it from me,
And has made me half-see
The enemy sailor
And the plains where Catullus
And the banks where Tibullus
Wandered pace by pace,
And still go now
Again, with their pallid lips
Giving their lovers gentle kisses.