Diana, Your Custom Is to Tear Everything Apart

Poem by Théodore Agrippa D'Aubigné Period 16th century

Diana, your custom is to tear everything apart,
To inflame, to shatter, to ruin, to rend in pieces
Undertakings, designs, hopes, and cunning schemes,
Turning into despair what gives hope.

You see my fortune flee, my ardor worsen,
You have weaned me from the milk, the honey of your caresses,
You resharpen the blows with which you wound my heart,
And have no other pleasure than to make me suffer.

You burn my verses when I idolize you,
You make them share in my greatest disaster:
“Go to the fire, my darling, and not to death,

You are equal to me, and shall be so through it.”
Diana, repent, think that you are wrong
To give death to those who make you immortal.

Théodore Agrippa d’Aubigné

Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.

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