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Song to a Lady in Simple Clothes
- I don't know anyone whose plight
- can match the plight that's my disgrace:
- I'm dying for your sake, alas!
- and you, dear lady, red and white,
- want me to paint you well composed,
- when I saw you in simple clothes.
- I wish I'd stayed in bed that day
- or found you less attractive!
- Yes, dear lady, from that day since,
- my life, alas! has been unhappy.
- And you, daughter of Paio Moniz,
- act as if you were convinced
- that you bestowed on me a robe
- when from you I've had no clothes
- and never had, beloved lady,
- so much as a leather strap.
[English version by Richard Zenith]
