Sad and so bound, my vigilant
lyre caught the vows and innocent
laments of a poor captive bird;
and shaking the troublous plaint of days
into gentler bonds of verse I bade my muse
bend her piteous words.
Study well her fate, this brave and elegant
maid that terror made only more elegant,
learned philosopher,
her person so charming, her mind so refined-
and fearful to see your own life's thread unwind,
take care, lest you end it like her.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem