At this return of the new season
All is renewed,
The Meadows, the Woods, all changes here;
But, O cruel sorrow:
My Iris changes too,
And I see each day
The flowers be born & her love die.
The fair Spring shows forth in this Empire,
The gentle Zephyr,
The Games, the Laughter & the Loves;
Must I sigh,
And languish forever,
Must I see each day,
The flowers be born & her love die.
Michel Lambert
Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.
Text published on Poésies 123: https://www.poesies123.com/en/air-de-cour-at-this-return-of-the-season-michel-lambert/
