If it be thy will to gain the safe shore of Passion’s main, with a thousand brands of fire one faint flame is thy desire.

God has taught me how to spring joyously upon the wing; Thou aspirest but to rest cowering in thy meadow’s nest.

Seekest thou to win perchance the Beloved’s secret glance? First awhile be clutching then so the skirts of conscient men.

With no madness in thy breast through the town thou clamourest; pitcher shattered from thy grip, Thou wouldst yet the revel keep.

Practice too the amorous art, learn to captivate the heart, if thou dost desire of me Love’s immortal minstrelsy.