At Twenty Years, Pure of Offense and Vice, Poem by Pierre De Ronsard

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

At twenty years, pure of offense and vice,
Led, unwary, by a too-blind bird,
Still with a callow youth’s chin,
Sound and brisk I came into your service.

But, O cruel one, worn out by your malice,
I return in an old hide,
Grizzled-headed, having lost my beauty:
Such are Love’s games and exercise.

Alas, what am I saying! where would I go?
With another good I cannot sate myself.
Like the quail, Love, you make me be,

One that fattens and feeds on poison.
With another good I will not feed myself,
Nor live elsewhere, so much your poison pleases me.

Pierre de Ronsard

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

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