The breezes gently wafted
To me from your land,
As if a scent were coming along
That had been sent from paradise.
For I only know of 
Anxious heartache about one woman,
To her strays my yearning,
For her I am aglow,
Turned away from all others,
To cling solely to her.

Ah, if I am only impassioned
By her eyes, sweet and clear,
Though I should lack greater favour
I am truly a god.
Why should I conceal that,
I who was always so open!
Only her words shall torture me,
I think of that constantly:
The coward is frightened of danger;
Courage shall steel the valiant.

Could you injure a heart
That only ever thought of love?
Then I must be consumed by yearning,
Must languish.
Ah, would you allow that
And look upon me amicably,
My heart would be brightened,
For all grief would dissolve.
This grief still presses upon me, 
I can never ward it off!

It often comes to my mind
How dreadful are the ways of women,
Since their love is seldom
Given to their faithful swains.
Not that I think of insult!
From that I would gladly be spared,
But that a scoundrel should win
Tender love with deceit,
That seems to me unfairly hard,
Since I love so lucklessly.
 
If only there were never upon earth
The despicable gaggle of gossips,
I could be blissfully happy;
But I do not quail.
With friendly gestures
She comforts me well,
And if it would not endanger her [reputation]
She would surely do sweeter things yet.
Ah, he who is made happy, rests,
He who is unfortunate, bears hardships!

If God looks graciously upon me
I do not scorn my happiness;
And before I departed,
Did she not say clearly and simply
That she had drawn joy
From every single poem?
That under the vault of heaven
Many a person yet lacks
The bright light of joy
That shone about me then!

If she did not deceive me,
I am full of confidence;
Otherwise I consider everything
A woman promises to be a lie.