comfort me this evening.
I am dying of love;
I need you to live until the day.
Should someone reproach me
For having towards you the heart harder than rock
To have left you, mistress,
To follow the Queen,
Beggar I do not know what
That the vulgar call a largesse ?
Rather perish honor, shortness, and wealth,
That for goodness I never leave you,
Often it only takes a tear of you, God listens to me.
The mouth is silent
To hear the heart speak.
Nothing makes us so great than a great pain.
But, to be attained, do not believe, O poet.
To deceive his mistress, or overcome its weakness.
Succumb, or fight incessantly.
God speaks, we have to answer.
Forgive me if I always shake to have a weakness.
Do you love me again ?