How come you’ve chased the worst of men in kind,
Whose approbate with animals compete.
And mercilessly his grace to me remind:
“He has painted me in pieces of sheet”
Hallow I find your love, and shallow; I fear
A union like that be led to death so fast
And I foresee that day, a day not near,
That you be come to be my own at last.
Yet I cannot put faith to your amour;
Hence your betrayal for sure lingers on.
Having done that, you must my love assure
And turn our moon to a splendid sun.
Then leagues of men will envy me for you
And ‘mong your friends only remain a few.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem