I. Since I have engaged in writing songs, it behoves me to take care that no discordant word is therein conveyed, and if I say aught that is pleasing to my lady, a fair reward will assuredly accrue to me. And it would not be right if my song is not pleasing to her. Why? Because she has endowed me with the skill and ability and therefore I must not disdain my work.
II. Although she turns a haughty countenance to me, I cannot transfer my attentions to another, for my heart and eyes inspire me to give myself to her, so much do I rejoice at her fair features; and when I am minded to depart, it is of no avail, for love of her, which captivates me, is ever present and makes me turn to her, so much does it constrain me.
III. Far from my eyes but close to my heart is she for whom I lament and sigh, so that when I have the more grief and distress, my love is doubled and waxes stronger and increases; and since I am hers, I do not think she would deceive me, and I place such trust in her wisdom, that I believe she will show me indulgence.
IV. It would be only sensible if I departed from her before I allowed myself to be killed by grief, but Love desires me to suffer truly and never for any reason to become exasperated; God never created any man who was a true lover who did not prefer to heed Love rather than his reason, wherefore I am minded now to carry out its command.
V. Never did any lover suffer such grievous sorrow or such great torment on account of his lady; I beseech her of her pity to tell me, in this my grief, if she is not minded to show herself more favourably disposed towards me so that I may come more quickly to my death, for it would, I think, be better to die than to live ever amid affliction and trouble.
VI. Go forthwith, O song, straight to my lady yonder in whom I place my hope and tell her to think sometimes of me because I love her truly and without thought of deceit; never, by my faith, from the moment I saw her have I altered or changed my intent but, on the contrary, love her always and fear her displeasure and heed her desires.
VII. My lord Heraclius of Polignac, with every day of the year your worth grows ever higher.
VIII. Bella-Guarda, with your name do I gild my song, for no man can lie in praising.
