VII

Me happy, night, night full of brightness;

Oh couch made happy by my long delectations;

How many words talked out with abundant candles;

Struggles when the lights were taken away;

Now with bared breasts she wrestled against me,

Tunic spread in delay;

And she then opening my eyelids fallen in sleep,

Her lips upon them; and it was her mouth saying: Sluggard!

In how many varied embraces, our changing arms,

Her kisses, how many, lingering on my lips.

“Turn not Venus into a blinded motion,

Eyes are the guides of love,

Paris took Helen naked coming from the bed of Menelaus,

Endymion’ s naked body, bright bait for Diana,”

— such at least is the story.

Fool who would set a term to love’ s madness,

For the sun shall drive with black horses, earth shall bring wheat from barley,

The flood shall move toward the fountain

Ere love know moderations,

The fish shall swim in dry streams.

No, now while it may be, let not the fruit of life cease.

Nor can I shift my pains to other

Hers will I be dead,

If she confers such nights upon me, long is my life, long in years,

If she give me many,

God am I for the time.