Thou gracious dweller of the woodland green,
Companion ever of the April flowers,
And living breath of mother Venus's heart,
O gentle zephyr! —
If thou dost know the sorrows of my love, —
Thou that dost bear afar my sad lament, —
Hear me and frankly say to her I love
That here I perish!
Filis, who once my bitter yearnings knew,
Filis, who once my bitter yearnings wept,
Once did she love me, but, alas, I fear,
I fear her anger!
So do the gods with their paternal breasts,
So do the heavens with all their hearts benign