Catherine face deprives me of my sleep, a curse or a bliss
Is this the image that burns my whole inwards like dry summer grass
Like a sweet nymph of the forest it makes me immortal with a kiss.
Her lips suck my soul: her nose her cheeks what a lass!
Oh sweet Catherine come, sweet maid, come, give me my soul again.
Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these voluptuous lips or I be insane
And all around me is a complete dross when she is not there
And when I shall return to you Catherine for a kiss.
Your eyes slay me, you are fairer than the evening air
Your style, clad in the beauty of a thousand stars bless
Brighter are you than flaming Jupiter when among its ringlets it lies
Summer vaults of heaven you are more lovely than the monarch of the skies
I shall be in your wanton azured arms
And none other but you shall be my paramour!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem