Nor Her Curly Treasure, Poem by Pierre De Ronsard

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

Nor her curly treasure of hair,
Nor her smile with its two dimples,
Nor the plumpness of her soft breast,
Nor her chin so roundly dimpled,

Nor her fair eye that my eyes wished
To choose as prince for my subject soul,
Nor her fair bosom from which the Archer shoots at me
The sharpest of his sharpened arrow,

Nor her fair body, the dwelling of the Graces,
Nor her beauties written in a thousand hearts,
Have enslaved my free affection.

Only her spirit, where all heaven abounds,
And the torrents of her sweet eloquence,
Make me die for her perfection.

Pierre de Ronsard

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