Your eyes, cruel Iris, seeing me suffer,
A hundred times through their glances flattered my martyrdom:
If you intended to let me die,
Alas! alas! what did they mean to tell me?
Michel Lambert
Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.
Text published on Poésies 123: https://www.poesies123.com/en/air-de-cour-your-eyes-cruel-iris-michel-lambert/
