Do not reproach me, ladies, if I’ve loved,
if I have felt a thousand torches’ fires,
if my time a time of tears has proved,
as long as you cease to curse my name.
If I’ve failed, the agonies are mine,
so do not those bitter barbs align,
but think that Love, the very same,
without Vulcan’s ardour as excuse,
or beauty like Adonis’ to accuse,
will make you love more violently,
owning, compared to me, less reason,
possessed by fiercer, stranger passion.
And take care you’re not sorrier than me.
Louise Charlin Perrin Labé [La Belle Cordière] ( c. 1524 – 1566) France
Translated by A. S. Kline
Source: Poetry in Translation
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