The Year Was Growing Young Again, Poem by Pierre de Ronsard

Poem by Pierre De Ronsard Collection Second Book of LovesThemes LovePeriod 16th century

The year was growing young again in its green youth
When I fell in love with you, my cruel Sinope;
Sixteen years were the flower of your new age,
And your complexion still smacked of childhood.

You still had the bearing of an infanta,
The speech, and the steps; your mouth was beautiful,
Your forehead and your hands worthy of an Immortal,
And your eye, which makes me die when I think of it.

Love, who that day saw such great beauties,
Wrote them in marble, in my heart with a single stroke;
And if for today your beauties so perfect

Are not as they once were, I am no less delighted,
For I have no regard for what you are now,
But for the sweet memory of the beauties I saw.

Pierre de Ronsard

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

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