Luís de Camões Biography

Love is a fire that burns unseen,
a wound that aches yet isn't felt,
an always discontent contentment,
...

Flowers are fresh, and bushes green,
Cheerily the linnets sing;
Winds are soft, and skies serene;
...

Beneath a green and lofty oak reclined,
Corydon o'er the scale his finger threw
In ivy's shade, whose clinging tendrils grew
...

On earth I lived few years, and weary ones,
cram-full of stubborn, wretched misery;
the dark day's light deserted me so soon
...

So sweet the lyre, so musical the strain,
By which my suit, Belovëd! is expressed,
That, hearing them, no such indifferent breast
...