Luís de Camões Poems

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

Waters of gentle Tagus, calmly flowing
Through these green fields ye freshen as ye flow,
On flocks and herds, plants, flowers, all things that grow,
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Never did love his boldness hurtful find;
Fortune hath ever favours for the bold;
For cowardice, that shivers in the cold,
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When I behold you, Lady! when my eyes
Dwell on the deep enjoyment of your sight,
I give my spirit to that one delight,
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Flowers are fresh, and bushes green,
Cheerily the linnets sing;
Winds are soft, and skies serene;
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Beneath a green and lofty oak reclined,
Corydon o'er the scale his finger threw
In ivy's shade, whose clinging tendrils grew
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On earth I lived few years, and weary ones,
cram-full of stubborn, wretched misery;
the dark day's light deserted me so soon
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So sweet the lyre, so musical the strain,
By which my suit, Belovëd! is expressed,
That, hearing them, no such indifferent breast
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The souls of all were sad in solemn prayer,
Owning the mercy of their Lord Divine,
While in His holy presence so benign,
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My gentle spirit! thou who hast departed
So early, of this life in discontent,
Rest thou there ever, in Heaven's firmament,
...