I. Never will I vaunt my song; but if it pleases you and is good, then thank not me for it but Love which holds me in thrall, for Love guides and exalts me. And if it brings me torment and grief, I live joyfully when I die loving.
II. It pleased my lady in her great goodness to receive my homage and she did and promised me so much and did me such favours that I did not think any man could be my equal. But now am I torn by doubt that, either through indifference or scorn, she may forget me or disdain me.
III. Exalted was I, but now I am abased; I can say that it has happened to me as to him who dreams of joy and who, on waking, finds nothing. Where shall I ever be able to set my trust in any fair countenance since in that one I find deceit?
IV. I say too much; I can do no more, for waiting and mercy long delayed have killed me. What, then, shall I do henceforth? I ought to depart from her if I could, but if, while I hesitate, despair separates me from her, true love brings me as near again to her.
V. I must suffer grief and tribulation, not for two or three days only but for ever, rather than turn my intent elsewhere, for this affliction is worth all other happiness. You only, lady, do I desire to bring me joy and happiness; no other aid in the world do I ask.
VI. If a lover would be wise and courteous, let him not consider his hurt nor let it appear by word or deed that he has any grievance against his lady; for such a man seeks his own hurt who, out of pride, thinks to take vengeance there where he is not welcome.
VII. Lady, hope too long deferred brings no profit or benefit in love; he who loves must let it be apparent.
