While your learned hand..., Poem by Rémy Belleau

Poem by Rémy Belleau Period 16th century

While your learned hand, gentle and fair,
Goes skillfully sorting the fragrant flowers
Through these meadows enameled in a hundred and a hundred colors,
By the sacred labor of the immortal troop:

Beware lest Love, hidden beneath the new robe
Of some beautiful flower, fan his heats,
And instead of thinking to soothe your sorrows,
With a little dart of fire renew them.

While gathering flowers, the daughter of Agenor
Was surprised by Love, and Proserpine too,
One a king’s daughter, the other wholly a goddess.

It takes only a very little blowing
On the heated coal to kindle a fire,
Of which you could not in the end be mistress.

Rémy Belleau

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