In this lonely, dark vale
The stag which bells at the sound of water,
Bending his eyes on a stream,
Amuses himself with watching his shadow.

This fountain's Naiad
Opens each evening the portal
Of her crystal home
And sings me a serenade.

The Nymphs brought by the chase
To the shade of these forests
Seek out secret places
Far from the Satyr's ambush.

Once, at the foot of this great oak
Almost as ancient as the sun,
Bacchus, Love [Cupid] and Sleep
Dug the grave of Silenus.

A cold and shadowy silence
Sleeps in the shade of these elms,
And the winds batter the branches
With their violent love.

The most reserved of spirits joins in
The pleasure of this sweet resting place
Where Philomel [the nightingale] night and day
Renews her pitiful call.

The osprey and the owl perch there,
Here live  werewolves;
Angry justice never
Pursues criminal here.

Here love pursues his studies,
Venus dresses her altars
And the visits of mortals
Never trouble these lonely spots.

This forest is never violated,
Never without disturbing it did
Love come there in olden days to hide
The shepherd who taught Diana1.

Love used, in his innocence
As a child, to tend his nets here;
And as queen of the forests
Diana had the freedom of the place.

Cupid, lightening with his soft flame
The night of this valley,
Placed before the eyes of Apollo
The boy for whom his soul longed2.

In the shade of this dark wood
Hyacinth hid himself,
And since then the Sun [Apollo] swore
To be the enemy of the shade.

Just nearby, the jealous North Wind,
Urged by his tormented love,
Was the death of this young lover
He still sighs for.

Holy forest, my confidant,
I swear by the God of day
That I shall never have any love
Which is not plainly evident to you.

My Angel shall walk in this shade;
The Sun [Apollo], seeing her come,
Will again feel in memory
The access of his first passion.

Corinne, I beg you, come near;
Let us lie on this green carpet
And, to be better hidden,
Let us enter the hollow of this rock.

Open your eyes, I beg you;
A thousand loves have their home there,
And with their little burning wounds
Your eye is quite filled.

Love sighs for your glances,
And, become your slave,
Sees himself imprisoned
In the bonds of his own power.

O beauty undoubtedly immortal,
In which the Gods find attractions!
By your eyes, I did not really believe
That you could be so beautiful.

Whoever wanted to paint a picture
Which could represent your features
Would have to paint much better
Than nature ever managed.

For a whole age destiny
Could strive after her eyes, 
And I believe that time has not
Enough years to make better ones.

With pride full of attraction
This fair face's glances
Shoot fires and darts
Whose power the Gods would desire.

How full of grace are your colours!
How white, and how crimson!
Colour brighter than the sun,
More uniform than ice.

My god! how your hair delights me!
It frisks above your brow
And seeing it, beautiful as it is,
I am jealous when it kisses you.

Fair lips of amber and rose,
Your conversation displeases
If you do not say, as you kiss me,
That to love is a fine thing.

With an air full of loving fire,
At the sound of your sweet voice
I see the rivers and woods
Blaze up as my soul has done.

If you moisten your ivory fingers
In this crystal stream,
The god who lives in these waters
Will fall in love, if he dares drink them.

Show him your face, uncovered, and 
Your eyes will laugh with the waters
And in their mirror they will write
That Venus has come here.

So finely will she be depicted there
That the Fauns will be inflamed
But will be unable to discover the trick
Of your eyes, which they will love.

Hear this god who urges you
To cross into his element;
Hear how he sighs beautifully,
His freedom already stolen away.

Disturb his fantasy,
Turn away from this mirror
And you will throw him into despair
And relieve my jealousy.

Do you see this trunk, this rock?
I'm sure they'll stand guard over us,
And my love will become jealous
Of this myrtle, this ivy.

Up, my Corinne, that I may gather
Your kisses from morning till evening!
See how, to provide us a seat,
The myrtle has let fall its leaves!

Hear the finch and the linnet
On the branch of this rose-bush;
See their little throats shake,
Hear how they have changed their song!

Come here, come here, my Dryad!
Here the waters shall murmur,
Here birds in love
Shall sing a serenade.

Lend me your breast that I may drink
Of the perfumes which will enfold me;
Thus my senses will swoon
In the lakes of your ivory arms.

I shall bathe my playful hands
In the waves of your hair,
And your beauty will receive the vows 
Of my adoring glances.

Fear nothing, Cupid watches over us.
My little angel, surely you're mine!
Ah, I see that you love me truly,
You blush as I look at you!

Gods, how this timid manner
Has power over my spirits!
Rinaldo was not more enamoured
With the charms of his Armida3.

My Corinne, oh to kiss you!
No-one but Love can see us,
See how even the eyes of day
Cannot find room anywhere here.

The winds, which cannot be silent,
Also cannot hear us,
And what we do here
Is a secret unknown to them.