Classic Poem

" WHEN, as my sermoning advises you,
Your heart you have bestowed, there will befall
Adventures hard and heavy for Love's thane.
Often, when you're reminded of your love,
You'll find it necessary to depart
From company, lest they perceive your wound.
Then in your loneliness will come to you
Sighs and complaints, tremors and other ills.
Tormented will you be in many ways:
One hour you will be hot, another cold;
One hour you will be flushed, another pale;
No quartan fever that you ever had —
Nor quotidian either — could be worse.
The Pains of Love you will experience
Ere you recover thence; for times will come
When you will half forget yourself, bemused,
And long time stand like graven image mute
Which never budges, stirs, or even moves
Its foot, its hand, its finger, or its lips.
At last you will recover, with a start,
Your memory, reviving in a fright.
Like craven coward, from your heart you'll sigh;
For you should know all lovers act that way
When they have felt the woes that you will feel.
" Then time 'twill be for you to recollect
The sweetheart that too long you've left alone,
And you'll exclaim, " My God, how hard my lot
That where my heart has gone I may not go!
Why did I send to her my heart alone?
Never I see, but always think, of her
Powerless to send my eyes to guide my heart,
I prize not what they see apart from it.
Ought they to linger here? No, let them go
To visit her for whom my spirit yearns.
Slothful am I far from my heart to stay.
God help me; I am nothing but a fool!
I'll go straightway; no longer will I wait.
Until I see her face, I'll ne'er have ease."
You'll start upon your way in such a case
That often you will fail of your design
And waste your steps in vain; you will not find
Her whom you seek. Then naught there is to do
Except, mournful and pensive, to return.
" Then will you be anew in sad estate.
To you will come cold shiverings and sighs,
And pains that prick more sharp than hedgehog's quills.
(Who doubts this fact, let him ask lovers true.)
But nothing will appease your soul. Again
You make assay to see, perchance, the one
On whose account you suffer so much care,
Hoping you may succeed by utmost pains.
Great diligence you'll willingly exert
To feast and satisfy your hungry eyes.
Her beauty with great joy will fill your soul;
But sight of her your heart will broil and fry.
The glowing coals of love will burst ablaze.
The more you gaze upon her whom you love,
The hotter will the fire engage your heart.
Sight is the grease that swells the amorous flame.
Each lover customarily pursues
The burning conflagration. Although scorched,
He hugs it closer; for its nature's such
As makes him contemplate his lady love
Although at sight of her he suffers pain.
The closer that he gets, the more he loves.
Sages and fools in this, at least, agree
That he who's next the fire will burn the most.
" The more you see of her, the less you wish
Ever to leave her; but, when you must part,
Remembrance of her stays the livelong day
And the impression that you've been a fool
Not to have had the hardihood to speak,
But rather to have boobied by her side,
Awkward and dumb, and let the chance escape.
Well will you think that you have been remiss
Not to address the fair one ere you left.
Disadvantageous it will seem to you,
For if you had but gained a greeting fair
You would have valued it a hundred marks.
Bewailing then your fate you'll seek new chance
To wander in the street where you have seen
The lady whom you dared not interview.
Gladly, if possible, you'll seek her home;
All your meanderings and wanderings
Inevitably lead you to that place.
But from all men your purpose you'll conceal,
Seeking excuses other than the one
That makes you stroll near the attractive spot.
In such equivocation you are wise.
" If it should happen that you meet the fair
Where you can greet and have a word with her,
Then you will feel your color change; a chill
Will run through all your veins; and, when you try
To hold converse, your thoughts and words will fail.
Or, if you do succeed to start a speech,
Of every three words you'll say scarcely two,
So shameful your embarrassment will be.
No man so prudent lives that in such case
He'll not forget himself, unless he be
Pretended lover who but acts a part.
False lovers can their self-assurance keep
And undismayed say all that they desire.
Strong flatterers are they and traitors vile —
Felons who one thing think, another speak.
" When to an end your conversation comes,
Though you have not one word missaid, you'll think
You have been duped into forgetfulness
Of something special that you planned to say;
Then will your martyrdom begin again.
This is the struggle, this the sorry strife,
This is the battle that forever lasts.
Lovers will never gain all that they seek;
Always it fails them; never have they peace;
No consummation of the war there'll be
Until it is my will to call a truce.
" A thousand more annoyances at night
You'll have, and in your bed but small repose;
For, when you wish to sleep, there will commence
Tremblings, agitations, shivers, chills.
From one side to the other you will toss —
Lie on your stomach first, then on your back —
Like one with toothache seeking ease in vain.
Then will return the memory of her
Whose shape and semblance never had a peer.
I'll state a miracle that may occur:
Sometimes you'll dream that your beloved one,
Fair-eyed and naked quite, lies in your arms,
And yields herself companion to your love.
Then castles in the land of Spain you'll build,
And naught will please you but to fool yourself
With pleasant thoughts whose basis is a lie.
But e'en this fiction will not long remain,
And then you'll weep and thus make your complaint:
" Ye gods, have I but dreamed? What is this, then?
Where do I lie? Whence came this thought to me?
Would it might come again — ten, twenty times
A day! It fed and filled my soul with joy
And happiness; but its departure kills.
Might I again experience that bliss
And be where I then thought I was, I vow
That willingly I would give my life.
Death could not grieve me should his summons come
While I lay clasped within my sweetheart's arms.
But I, tormented thus and grieved by love,
Constant complaint and loud lament must make.
However, if the God of Love would grant
That I might utterly enjoy my love,
Well purchased were my woe at such a price!
Alas! I ask too much. I am not wise
Such an outrageous bargain to demand.
A fool's request deserves a sharp rebuff;
Therefore I know not what I dare to say.
Many a greater and more worthy one
Than I has had in love less recompense
And thought himself well favored, nonetheless.
But, if a single kiss and nothing more
The fair one would allot to ease my pain,
Most rich reward I'd have for all my woe.
But now for me the future darkly looms;
Well may I hold myself a fool who dare
To set my heart upon so high a prize
That neither joy nor profit may I gain.
Yes, I'm a silly churl so to prefer
A look from her above another one's
Complete surrender. Should the gods me aid
To get, this instant, longed-for sight of her,
How soon should I be cured! Oh, help me, God!
Why does the dawn so long delay? I lie
Too long lamenting on this lonely couch
Where I no ease can have without my love.
Naught but annoyance 'tis to lie abed
When one can have no comfort or repose.
I'm troubled now, when I would fain arise,
Because the night has lingered all too long
And day breaks all too slowly in the east.
O Sun, for God's sake, haste; make no delay —
Speed the departure of the night obscure
Which, with its cares, has worn its welcome out!"
" If I know aught of the distress of love,
I know that thus you'll waste away the night
And get but little rest. And when at length
You can no longer bear to lie awake,
You'll rise and dress yourself, put on your shoes,
And make your toilet ere you see the dawn.
Then furtively you'll seek, in rain or snow,
By shortest path, the mansion of your love,
Who, soundly sleeping still, scarce thinks of you.
By postern gate an hour you'll wait alone,
Hoping that perchance it may unclose;
But there you'll cool your heels in wind and sleet.
Then the front door you'll try, or elsewhere seek
Some unbarred window — any opening —
Where you may listen for some sound within
That may betoken who's asleep, who wakes
And if by chance your sweetheart is the one
Who only is awake, I counsel you
To let her hear your groans and your complaints
That she may know that, troubled by her love,
You in your bed could find no more repose.
Unless her heart is hard, she should be touched
With pity for the one who bears such pain.
" For love of that high sanctuary, then,
Because of which you're robbed of all your rest,
At your departure kiss the blessed door;
And, that no man may see you in the street
Before the house, take care to go away
While twilight lingers — ere the dawn is clear.
Such comings and such goings in the night,
Such wakings and such watchings, such complaints,
Make lovers' bodies thin beneath their clothes.
Of this yourself will an example be:
Love leaves true lovers neither flesh nor blood.
This fact helps one identify false churls
Who, wishing to betray ingenuous maids,
Attempting to deceive them, say they've lost
Completely their desire for meat and drink;
Yet ne'er an abby prior's more fat than they!
" With one thing more I charge you, and command
That you your reputation make secure
For generosity, by many gifts
Bestowed upon the lady's serving maid,
That she may name you as a worthy man.
Hold dear and honor all your lady's friends;
Advantage may well come through them to you.
When those who have her confidence recount
How they have found you courteous, true, and kind,
Your love will prize you half as much again.
Depart not from your sweetheart's native land;
Or, if you must, by dire necessity,
Be sure to leave your heart as hostage there,
And plan a quick return; make absence brief.
Let her well know how long the hours seem
When you're away from her who guards your heart
Now I have told you how and in what guise
Lovers should do my bidding; do it, then,
If you would lastly gain your pleasure with your love. "